


There was never another ending for someone like me

by riderOnTheStorm9682



Series: Listen, love... [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, the magical library
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 92,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riderOnTheStorm9682/pseuds/riderOnTheStorm9682
Summary: Laura is in the library, its magical and salty. Laura and the gang try to figure out what's up with the library and stave off the end of the world as usual. Carm is vampire.  They meet and shit happens.Carm is really dark in this. There will be themes of depression, hopelessness, and borderline suicidal thoughts. If this is triggering for you please be warned! I will post notes before each chapter to warn you if something comes up.This is my first fic and I'm new to this fandom. I cannot promise regular updates or if I will even finish this. I hope you like it anyway!*****COMPLETED!! planning a sequel stay tuned!********
Relationships: Carmilla/Laura (Carmilla), Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein
Series: Listen, love... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098818
Comments: 84
Kudos: 57





	1. Whirling

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I'm a new Creampuff and this is my first fic! I stumbled on this little web series while quarantining at my parent's house and holy mother of god it was life-changing. Been reading so many fics since then and finally decided to write a lil somethin. 
> 
> As I said, I am not a writer. I'm a first year medical student and I'm using this as an outlet so I have something to focus on other than anatomy. I write in spurts in between studying so I have no idea how I'll be updating this. I really want to finish it and I know it sucks when people write a story and never finish so I'll try! I currently have like 11.5k words written which is a few chapters. I will post those soon and then the rest when I get around to it.
> 
> This is in second person POV. I know people don't like that sometimes and I used to hate it but it grew on me. It felt natural to write it this way for me so deal with it lol. 
> 
> Please, please, please leave comments, suggestions. I don't have good grammar and tend to mix up verb tenses and write run-on sentences so please point it out and I'll fix it. If you want to just tell me I'm terrible that's cool too lol. Tbh even if it's terrible I'll still write it lol. Idk where this is going so let me know if y'all have plot suggestions.

* * *

_I left my home in Georgia_   
_And I headed for the Frisco Bay_   
_'Cause I've got nothin' to live for_   
_Looks like nothin's gonna come my way, so_

_I'm just come sittin' on the dock of the bay_   
_Watchin' the tide roll away_   
_I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time_

_Looks like nothin's gonna change_   
_Everything seems to stay the same_   
_I can't do what ten people tell me to do_   
_So I guess I'll remain the same_

_I'm sittin' here restin' my bones_   
_And this loneliness won't leave me alone_   
_This two thousand miles I roamed_   
_Just to make this dock my home_   
_Now I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay_

_Watchin' the tide roll away_   
_Sittin' on the dock of the bay_   
_I'm wastin' time_

_-Otis Redding, "Sittin on the dock of the bay"_

* * *

Carmilla

There is something mesmerizing about the way that the sea water undulates in the shallows of the seashore. You find yourself sitting just far enough to where the reaching fingers of the tide cannot touch you, but the edges of the incoming waves peter out within an inch of your toes. Your gaze fixes on some random point on the shoreline, and the flecks of light that reflect the sun into your vision blur and grow, filling your world with millions of tiny, diamond stars, floating randomly yet soothingly to the rhythm of the tide.

You are finding it especially difficult to ignore the way the sun’s heat penetrates your fortified skin, rendering you slightly uncomfortable yet not quite painful. A small corner of your mind notes that you must feed soon or else you’ll have to surrender completely to the night when the rays become too painful to bear.

You cannot find it within yourself to move however, enraptured by the galaxy of stars in your eyes, framed by your dark lashes. The soft roar of the crashing waves fills your ears, and you automatically synchronize your breathing to match the rise and fall. Breathing is unnecessary, you know this because you tried holding your breath one time around a century ago just to see. After a week, you got so uncomfortable not being able to smell things you gave up. Nevertheless, while the air entered and exited your lungs unchanged and unaltered, you often found yourself breathing in times like these. It was a vestigial human habit that, even after 3 and a half centuries, you’d been unable to shake. If you were asked, you claimed you didn’t like not being able to smell, that you needed to be able to sniff out your prey. But, the real reason you knew was that it made you feel alive, even though you most certainly were not.

Perhaps that was the thing you missed most about being human, and maybe the thing you hated the most about your existence now.

You weren’t alive.

And that meant you could not die.

After a while you notice your stars were growing dimmer, and that uncomfortable pricking feeling on your exposed skin was easing. You began to feel the tender bite of cold when the breeze picked up, and while the temperature did not physiologically affect you, you still missed the warmth.

You always hated the cold.

You wait until the last star blinked out and all you could hear was the faded whine of the retreating tide. You open your eyes and stand, turning quickly and made your way off the beach, without looking back.

Your legs carried you forward- or backward you didn’t know. How could you be sure? Who is to say one direction is forward, and another backwards? The terms are meaningless to the immortal. When you have all the time in the world, suddenly you have none at all. Every moment ticks by, but nothing is accomplished, nothing moves forward it just floats into nothingness. You simply exist in some space or another.

Your existence is numbing. Punctuated only by the rise and fall of the sun, the changing faces of the moon, and the graceful cycle of the seasons as this unforgiving rock whirled around an around.

Whirled around its own axis.

Whirled around its personal star

The moon whirling around it.

With all that whirling you don’t know which way is up anymore.

Recently, you think, you had noticed that with each passing day, each galivant of the earth around its own axis, you felt a buzzing in your soul. It was uncomfortable and even jarring sometimes. It had been increasing in volume and turbidity imperceptibly. You could feel it in your bones, minute vibrations that traveled through your steel frame and tickled your teeth. It was the only thing close to emotion you had felt in decades, you reckon. The last time you had any sort of feeling you remembered there being a world war raging and a mustached, genocidal maniac at the helm of your homeland. You stop that path of thinking before it reached its consummation. That time of your life was something you habitually block out of your consciousness.

As your feet blindly carried you on, your toes just barely registering the presence of the earth beneath them, you realized it had most likely been several decades since that time. You vaguely remembered a great commotion when mankind had set foot on the moon, a flimsy wall being built and quickly broken down in Berlin, and the birth of a digital age. You had registered these observations in a remote part of your brain which, at the time, apparently reflexively catalogued its environment as predators do, constantly vigilant and diligent as your species had adapted to be.

The greatest predator ever to walk the face of the earth, but not to ever live.

Such a waste, your inner monologue whispered weakly, to want for nothing.

The sky had darkened completely by now, and landscape was eerily quiet. Not eerie for you, as most living things froze in fear in your presence. You’re used to the silence, used to nature’s deference to your superiority- to your invincibility. So, when a gust of wind carries the sound of an ethereal voice and a hammering pulse, you freeze.

Every hair on your body stands at attention, your muscles relaxed but expertly poised to spring in every direction. Your instincts take over and your mind reaches out into the landscape, waiting for more data with which your developed frontal lobe could discern the source- prey or not.

Your existence had been boiled down to that simple dichotomy.

Yes or no.

Night or day.

Alive or dead.

Your mouth waters at the mere thought of prey, your gums aching as venom pooled in your glands. You suddenly realize you are much thirstier than you’d thought. The wind shifts, and the voice reaches your ears yet again, clearer now and the echo of a beating pulse sharpened into the wet, delicious sound of a human heartbeat, so distinct and beautiful.

Your head snaps towards the source of the sound and you’re running in a blur, the result of a primal reflex. Wind whipped past your face, your fangs tingling as they fill with venom in anticipation. You feel a cool wetness on your chin and the slight burn of that venom, overflowing your glands and mixing with your saliva, spilling out of your mouth. In a few minutes you are there. Your eyes catch sight of the prey, and you immediately find yourself crouching on the ground on all fours as you take in the scene before you.

It is a small girl, not too much taller than 5 feet. She is lean but strong looking, your mind notes unnecessarily. No human could ever touch you, much less pose a threat to you. But your over-evolved brain stubbornly catalogued any potential threats regardless of this knowledge. Your eyes go to lock in on the pulsing vein in her neck and when her head turns, you are met with honey brown irises. You see a crinkling at the corners and long lashes. You are frozen in her gaze, staring straight at you. She holds you in place, like a stake in the ground. Your gaze falls on a set of white teeth, perfectly dull and made for chewing not tearing, so different from your own. It takes you a moment to realize her lips are turned up into a smile, something you had not seen in decades- a smile on a human.  
When you interacted with humans, they were almost always screaming, or moaning in pain, or begging for mercy through tears and gurgling blood.

You are still crouched low on the ground, fangs bared, muscles poised to strike, but something about her smile just freezes you in place. It glitches your brain. Such a ridiculous thing to see on your prey, so close to a grimace of pain, yet it could not be farther from the same. You realize seconds had been ticking by, for the first time in you didn’t know how long, you actually felt them tick by.  
“Hi. So you’re like a vampire, right?” she finally blurts out, the remnants of a smile still lingered in her eyes. “Pfft, duh of course you are you’re all fangy and, like, lurking in the shadows of the night. Plus you’re like super pale and beautiful and also kind of look like the nightmare I had after I watched the Conjuring that one time with Laf-“ Her tiny hand came up to smack her forehead, you note the heartbeat that had been deliciously ringing in your ears ratchets up. “Sorry I’m rambling but I just want to say I really don’t want to die and I know you’re probably thirsty and all which I’m sorry but I just promised my Dad that I would be okay and getting mauled by a vampire in the middle of the night is definitely not keeping that promise so if you could just let me leave and maybe find some sort of deer or something instead of me to eat then I would like really appreciate it.” She gushes, letting out a gush of air as she finished.

As she spoke you had been slowly coming out of your crouch, moving towards her completely entranced with this curious creature. You didn’t say anything, letting the silence fill the air between you. Her eyes stayed glued to yours, not once straying. Your head cocks to the side, puzzled at this, usually humans stared at her fangs when she approached them. But she didn’t. Her heart is beating quickly, but not galloping in fear as you were used to. Your nostrils flare as you sift through the myriad of scents around you, trying to put aside the burning in your gums when you register the overwhelming perfume of her blood. You pick up the faint odor of sweat and exertion, something sweet, like chocolate or vanilla, and something earthy like freshly dug up soil. Your brow furrow in confusion. You can’t smell any fear.

Your eyes had fluttered closed as you concentrated on her smell, and when you open them again you were again captured by honey brown. They are transparent and unyielding.

“I-I’m Laura. Laura Hollis. You know, in case you were wondering. I kinda feel like if you were gonna eat me then you would’ve done it by now?” her voice turned up at the end, her nose scrunching up in confusion.

She takes a shaky breath to steady herself, blowing out a gust of air although the tension in her shoulders stays unchanged. Her eyes narrow slightly as if considering something.

“Yeah so, if you’re not gonna eat me, maybe we can be friends?” her eyes widen comically and here eyelids flutter. “Or like acquaintances or you know just like whatever you’re comfortable with.” She stops, holding her breath. You stay silent. “Okay well that’s fine I just thought since you’re like the first person I’ve seen in like forever we could maybe I dunno talk or something.” She paused. “But since you don’t really seem like the talking type maybe you want to just hang out and have some cocoa? Or a cupcake, my friend Perry made a bunch and they’re really good. Or like maybe I can give you one of the rabbits I trapped today, and you can drink that.”

You’re standing only a few feet away from her now, looking slightly downwards as you’re a few inches taller than her. Her clear eyes stare straight through yours, and you feel a little like you’re flying and rooted in the ground at the same time.

“What makes you think I won’t eat you? hmm, cupcake?” You hear yourself saying. You realize you haven’t spoken in decades except to growl. Hearing your voice startles you. You take in a breath to steady yourself.

Her honey brown lashes flash and a smile creeps across her lips. You marvel at it again. So rare.

“Hey! You can talk! And well I dunno then why haven’t you yet?” she asks, planting her hands on her hips defiantly.

Her retort surprises you. You narrow your eyes. You feel the need to get under her skin, to get a rise out of her. You step forward into her space and raise your hand to her hair, glinting softly in the moonlight. You twirl an end around your finger delicately and let your gaze drop to where her neck is exposed. “Maybe I like playing with my food.” You bring your gaze up from her pulsing neck with some effort, your inner predator begging you to just end it and drink. The smell of her blood this close is intoxicating, and the wet sounds of her heart are ringing in her ears.

Her eyes widen slightly and her pupils dilate. But she steels herself, lips pursing.

“No. I don’t believe that.” She spits out defiantly.

You stare at her in disbelief as she whips around, her hair twirling outwards with the motion, and starts prancing away from you, a defiant sway in her hips and a firmness to her steps. Before you can comprehend what she said, you’re following her, your legs moving forward on their own accord.

Forward.

Forward towards this rambling mess of a fireball whose eyes could melt an iceberg with their heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you like? no like? Think this is Pulitzer worthy? Think this is pure trash? Let me know. 
> 
> and Yes I'm dramatic. It's more fun that way.


	2. Hot Cocoa with a Side of Flying Rabbit Carcass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out where Laura lives...Carm is a hot mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are 5k more words. I had them done so I thought why wait? If I don't post it now I'll just keep editing it till I die. 
> 
> also note: some more references to violence here, some sexual references but nothing too explicit. 
> 
> Enjoy. Let me know what you think!

* * *

You know better babe, you know better babe  
Than to smile at me, smile at me like that  
You know better babe, you know better babe  
Than to hold me just, hold me just like that

I know who I am when I'm alone  
Something else when I see you  
You don't understand, you should never know  
How easy you are to need

Don't let me in with with no intention to keep me  
Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me  
Honey don't feed me I will come back

Can't be unlearned  
I've known the warmth of your doorways  
Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you  
Oh please, give me mercy no more  
That's a kindness you can't avoid!  
I want you baby tonight, as sure as you're born

-Hozier, It will come back

* * *

You trail around 50 feet behind her, your eyes transfixed on her bright yellow beanie that bounces with each step. She doesn’t look back to check if you are still following, which infuriates you. The arrogance of this girl is unbelievable. You are the deadliest monster nature has conjured up- and this imbecile dared turn her back to you- assumes you would follow her like some sort of sick puppy. The thought ignited your anger when your logical brain reminded you that despite this you are, in fact, following her. You huff a frustrated breath through your nose. I’m just seeing if she has friends, you tell herself. Friends meant more food. You can feel your inner predator roll its eyes at you. You’re full of shit and you both know it. But you honestly can’t figure out why you hadn’t killed her yet. You don’t let you mind dwell on it.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you suddenly noticed she had been talking lowly as she walked through the woods, probably thinking you can’t hear her, although your heightened senses pick up on her words clearly as if she’d spoken to them at your ear.

“…some sort of coastal area, appears to be temperate, most likely not tropical. Caught two rabbits in traps today. Will identify species later. Might help ID the library’s location. Took pictures of some local fauna and notable natural landmarks. No sign of human habitation in a five mile radius. Will expand search grid tomorrow.”

You take in the nonsensical words and file them away for later analysis. The bulk of your brain is focusing on the sound of her voice. The way it is somehow bright and soft and sure. It is slightly breathy, most likely from the exertion of their hike. There is something in the voice that sparked in the back of your brain. Like a sputtering lightbulb. You can’t pinpoint exactly what it was but it is captivating. It soothes you, much like the way the ocean does. But this is different, you think. There is an intangible quality to it you can’t name.

After over an hour she starts to slow her steps head swiveling side to side looking for something. It is close to pitch black by now, only a small sliver of the moon providing minimal light to navigate the landscape. Your eyesight simply adapted to the night, where the lack of light does not diminish your vision’s definition, merely shifting the tones. You are surprised the tiny human was able to walk without tripping or running into something.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind you hear a yelp. You look up to see the girl turned back towards you, a hand coming up to gingerly touch a blooming knot on her forehead. You can’t help but let a chuckle escape your lips at the sight of her face- nose scrunched up, lips pursed in annoyance. Her eyes snap up to you and you see her lips turn down in a frown, but a smile in her eyes. “Yeah, yeah real funny. Laura is clumsy and ran right into a tree. Laugh it up.”

You feel your cheeks flex and your lips stretch over your teeth. The sensation is odd. You realize you’re smiling and your breath catches in your throat. You wrack your brain and you realize you can’t remember the last time you smiled. The thought is disconcerting, and you feel your brow furrowing. A tiny ball of panic sits deep in your gut. Your mind reels at the sensation. You hadn’t allowed yourself to feel anything but thirst and numbness for the better part of the last century and the sudden surge of the emotion burns through your veins.

It's like a spark from a fire lighting on your skin. You know its thousands of degrees, but it’s so tiny and fleeting your body absorbs it before it can do any damage and the feeling innocuously disappears as quickly as it came. You cling to the numbness it leaves behind.

With your emotions back in check, snuffed out as if by sudden reflex by your mind, you return your attention to the girl who is now wrestling with some palm fronds that are easily twice the size of her tiny frame. Your smile fades into a slight smirk, your eyes narrowing. Smirking is something you are quite used to. You often wear one when seducing your prey. Or, especially during that moment when your prey suddenly realizes their one night stand is actual a monster, when they know they wont live to see the light again. You often find it hard to keep a smirk off your face then.

You the words bubbling up your throat onto your tongue before you can think, “You need some help there, creampuff?”

She flicks her eyes up to you briefly but continues to struggle with the fronds, cantering around wildly. “Pfft. No I’m a perfectly capable adult lady who doesn’t need beautiful sassy strangers to help me with something-“ she grunts and throws the frond to the ground and straightens triumphantly, ”that just needs a little elbow grease.” She beams at the ground and squats down. You walk up slowly, craning your head to see what she’s uncovered.

It looks to be a metal plate, with a crest etched into the center. The surface is smooth and slight bowed upwards out of the ground. You lean back on your heals and study her. She tucks her hair behind her ear and reaches down towards the plate, hand curled into a fist.

Tap- tap….tap-tap-tap

The metal rings and you realize it’s hollow. A few moments pass and suddenly the plate swings open almost hitting the girl in the face. She jumps back just in time.

She stands up and grabs her pack from the ground and drops it into the hole. You hear the wind whistling past the pack and a few seconds later a smack onto a hard floor. You walk up to the edge of the hole and peer over. Even with your enhanced vision all you see is a ladder that leads down into blackness.

You look up at the girl, who you find is studying you nervously.

“So it’s not like the best set up but it’s safe and it’s the only way in that I know of so…ladies first?” She squeaks. Your smirk widens and you quirk an eyebrow upwards.

“Hmmm. While I’m certainly flattered by your chivalry and not to mention you’ve called me beautiful twice now,” her eyes widen comically but you continue, “but I’m going to insist you go first.” You wrap an arm cordially behind your back and gesture gracefully towards the hole, bowing your head in faux deference while maintaining eye contact and your best smirk. You hear her heart flutter and even in the low light of the crescent moon you see her face blush furiously. Your eyelids flutter briefly as the thought of her blood so close to the skin invades your mind. When your eyes land on her clear eyes the thought is flung out of your head.

You hear her mutter, “full of yourself much?” and you know that she thinks you didn’t hear but you did, and your smirk widens even further. She quickly starts to clamber down onto the ladder and soon her form is out of view. You watch the top of her honey brown head descend into the blackness, and without thinking you hop onto the ladder and start to follow her. When you close the hatch above you, descending you into complete darkness, you pause, flashing back to the last time you were bathed in liquid black. You shake your head vigorously to dispel the memory before it fully formed in your mind’s eye. You huff out a breath in frustration. One hour with this silly, naive girl and decades worth of work done building the fortress inside your mind to keep your demons caged is coming apart at the seams.

You focus back on the here and now, listening to the light beating of the heart below you, the regular huff of breath in exertion, the steady and unfaltering rhythm of hands and boots on metal rungs, and the sweet, sweet decadent smell that you can only describe as uniquely her.

Impulsively, you push your body off the rungs and let the empty air rush past you. You feel your stomach fly into your throat and a squeak of surprise as you fly past the tiny human. Within another second you feel the ground and easily absorb the impact with your legs.

“Carm?!?! Did you just fall? Oh god- she just fell. Oh god I don’t know first aid. Laf is gonna kill me!”

You hear her body scamper down the ladder and a huff as jumps the last few rungs, landing heavily on her feet. A few more seconds of scuffling later and a flashlight illuminates the space between you. The first thing you see are two brown eyes, opened as wide as they can go.

The eyes scan you up and down, taking in your obvious lack of injuries in disbelief.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” you say, a smirk creeping onto your face. There’s something so satisfying in flustering her. You think you might get addicted if you’re not careful. Maybe that’s what this is about, you think. After living an excruciatingly boring existence for the past several decades, you reckon that you deserve a little fun. Especially if it would make this tiny girl blush as beautifully as she does now. Your prey often go pale at the sight of you. It’s slightly titillating to have the blood you so achingly desire thrown forward towards the surface, enticing you to taste it rather than retreating in fear.

“I- I mean- you fell and…” she pauses, taking a deep breath, closing her eyes. You immediately feel your stomach clench at the loss. When she opens them again, you relax again.

“Right. You’re a vampire. Just-“ she sighs, ”follow me.” She mutters. She blows past you, and your eyes close as you take in her sweet scent. Your eyes snap open. Why are you letting this insignificant little girl have such an effect on you? As you turn and follow her into the darkness, the beam of her flashlight bobbing to and fro erratically, you remind yourself who you are. You’re a predator, and she is prey. Have a little fun and get what you came for. Nothing more, nothing less. Feeling more centered, you set your shoulders and raise your chin.

After a minute of walking through the darkness, the dank smell of wet stone filling your senses, you arrive at an ornate wooden door, embedded in a natural stone wall, the surrounding rocky surface covered with trails of slowly trickling water, glinting lightly in the light of the flashlight. You reflexively squint your eyes, blurring your vision just so, and the glittering trails turn into another one of your artificial small galaxies.

Your reverie is broken when the girl reaches out and gives the door a few taps in some sort of measured rhythm. She pauses for a moment before opening the door, stepping aside to let you enter.  
The smell of old paper and leather assaults your senses and you stop in your tracks, waiting for your brain to adjust to the strong smell. The door shuts quietly behind you.

“Sooooo, yeah I live in a library. I know it’s sort of weird but it just sort of happened and-“ You turn to where the girl has stopped beside you when she cuts herself off. Her heartbeat picks up a bit. She’s biting her bottom lip and scrunching her nose. Her eyes dart over to you from where they were staring pointedly at her feet.

“Um, yeah anyway so hot chocolate?” She looks more directly at you, a naïve, hopeful look on her face. You realize you’ve never been this close to her before- to any human before without the intent to kill them. Not since- No. The thought paralyzes you. You can see clearly the vein in her neck pulsing lightly at the base of her neck, but for the first time in a long time, you don’t think about tearing it apart. You realize you’ve been standing there staring at her silently for a bit too long.

“Or maybe you want a nice, juicy rabbit?” she pulls an emaciated carcass out from her pack and thrust it out in front of her. You flinch back as it swings wildly in her hand, one of its legs almost clipping you in the face.

“Jeez you always hit your guests in the face with a dead carcass?” you ask, noting an edge to your voice. You’re not sure why you’ve been so bitter with her, but something about her just makes your skin crawl. You can’t figure out if you the feeling or not.

She lowers the dead animal and glares at you defiantly. “I’m just trying to be nice. You could show just a smidge of gratitude.” Her general ineptitude and naivete gets under your skin, and you feel the need to get under hers. You see a spark in her honey eyes, and it triggers a spark in your chest.

“Gratitude? The only one who should be grateful is you for me not having killed you yet.” You spit back.

“Yeah I’m so grateful you decided to be a decent person and not murder me for no reason.” She huffs and turns on her heal, trying to stuff the rabbit back in her pack a bit unsuccessfully.

You follow her, through the stacks of books as she weaves in and out of the rows quickly. Her beanie bobs wildly as she walks, her shoulders set tensely and fists balled up tightly. You finally turn the corner to find a small lounge area, a few couches and chairs scattered with a large desk complete with an impressive computer set up. Several monitors were stacked together, wires and various processors and electrical equipment were piled somewhat haphazardly across the surface of the desk. Bright neon colored sticky notes with furiously scribbled notes written on them covered just about ever surface that wasn’t a screen. You walked closer, taking it in. “call Laf about weird plant” “dial 992 for SS (Danny)” “ask Perry about how to get chocolate out of leather ☹” Your eyes flicker to the small camera taped precariously on top of one of the monitors.

You hear a large huff and the sound of a body collapsing onto one of the sofas behind you. You turn to see the tiny girl splayed out on her back, limbs thrown askew, hanging off the edge of the cushions, one arm bent and placed over her face, eyes and forehead burrowed into the crook of her elbow. She looks exhausted and keyed up at the same time. Her one arm dangles limply, her fingers grazing the floor. But the sinews of her forearm which draped over her face stood out as her muscles clenched and unclenched, bringing her hand rhythmically in and out of a fist. Your eyes fall onto her lips, and you see them pursed. She heaves a sigh and her bottom lips are taken in by her teeth. You see her lip quiver ever so slightly, a detail you know no human could notice, but your acute senses pick up on it. Your dead heart clenches in your chest and you can’t figure out why. You just feel a tightness there, like the air that unnecessarily fills your lungs with each habitual breath doesn’t quite reach the bottom of your chest. Your brow furrows as you consider this feeling. You haven’t been feeling much of anything for several decades, and you can’t quite put your finger on what this feeling meant. It was faintly familiar, yet novel all the same. You realize you’ve been standing in the middle of the room for quite a long time simply staring at the girl. You throw your errant thoughts to the side.

“It’s not very polite for the hostess to fall asleep before attending to her guest, you know.” You say it softly, without your usual bite of sarcasm. She peeks an eye out from under her arm and it widens.  
“Oh! Right, sorry! Um yeah so ill just go get some cocoa?” She squeaks as she shoots upright on the couch. Her eyes search your face anxiously. Your eyes search her face as well, but with curiosity. You note a pricking sensation in the back of your skull. You recognize that your subconscious has picked up on something that you aren’t quite aware of yet. You narrow your eyes and promise yourself you’re just going to indulge this odd little human until you can clear up that prickling feeling. Yes, you say to yourself, that’s all it is. A predator’s curiosity. The more you can learn from this human, the better hunter you’ll be.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, sweetheart.” You say, lowering your voice in what you hope renders a dark shade to your words. You want to see how far you can push her before she finally comes to her senses and acts like the goddamn helpless prey she is. She’s oblivious, of course.

“Great! Ok I’ll be right back!” she exclaims brightly, ”You can, you know, make yourself at home or whatever…just don’t break my stuff.” She grumbles. She disappears around the corner and you settle yourself down on one of the cushy armchairs, propping your feet on the solid oak coffee table in front of you, trying to tamp down the boiling feeling in your bones. You recognize this feeling. It’s one you know quite well. Rage. Indignation. Acute irritation. You scoff quietly to yourself.

This girl.

She’s either entirely oblivious or in some sort of mind-numbing, denial fantasy land and you don’t know which is worse. How has she survived this long? How has this tiny stubborn squeaking girl not been swallowed up by the world? You’re indescribably angry and you don’t know why. Why should you care?

But you do. Irrevocably so. You are not dumb- you can at least recognize that. But, this only serves to infuriate you further. Your thoughts are interrupted by the unmistakably, delicious sound of a human heart approaching. In all your fury you’d almost stopped hearing that glorious sound. Finally, she breezes around the corner holding two very full mugs of steaming cocoa, glaring at them intensely, apparently concentrating on not allowing the brown liquid to spill onto the carpet. She reaches you and places the mugs on the coffee table with a triumphant smile. “There you go.” She sits on the couch across from you curling her legs under her, holding her own mug securely in her lap, palms pressed flush against the surface soaking in the warmth.

You silently lean forward and take the mug in your hand and lean back in your chair. You watch the girl- the prey- correct yourself gritting your teeth defiantly, waiting to see what she does next.  
Her eyes are everywhere but on you, bouncing frantically around the room before settling somewhat on her cup of cocoa. She raises the mug and takes a healthy sip, hesitates, then gulps down the remaining liquid. She tilts her head back to drink in the last dregs of chocolate and unceremoniously slams the mug onto the dark wood of the coffee table. Your eyes are drawn to her exposed neck immediately, but you realize you’re not tempted to tear it apart. She wipes the residual chocolate off her upper lip with the back of her sleeve and puffs out a huge breath. After a split second, you feel the tiniest puff of air on your face, and it smells like warm cocoa and something so distinctly alive you find you eyelids fluttering slightly in bliss. You are so caught up in the perfume that you almost miss her question.

“So, do you live around here?”

Your eyes focus in on hers as your brain finally catches up with your ears. You don’t answer for at least a tenth of a second which she seems to assume means that she’s offended you in some way.  
“I mean I don’t mean to assume you have a house or anything. Like maybe you’re nomadic or something and that’s totally cool no shame there at all. I was just wondering because you’re the first person I’ve seen in a while and I’ve been trying to figure out what this place is and all I have to go on is the local fauna and weather patterns…” You stare blankly at her taking in her rambling. That explains her ramblings on the hike but your head cocks to the side in confusion at two other things. You realize she’s called you a person twice now, and that sends a weird feeling through your gut. You ignore the urge to correct her remind her exactly what you are and focus on the other point of interest.

“Do you not know where we are?” you ask curiously.

Her face blushes crimson, and your gums twitch again as you register her blood so close to her skin. “Well, um it’s sort of a long story.” She stops abruptly, holding in her breath. Her eyes dart across your face, as if searching for something. You don’t know exactly what she’s looking at, as you feel quite frozen, but mostly just curious. You search her face as well and you notice the deep circles under her eyes, the tiredness the drags the corners of her mouth just slightly downwards. You also note the delicate fluttering on her jaw near her temple, and you just make out the sound of her teeth gnashing together. You settle on her eyes, the irises unmarred by the clear exhaustion the rest of her body carries. The downward sloping of her sinewy shoulders as if carrying a large burden did not in anyway diminish what was undeniably a stubborn fire which smoldered in her irises. You search your brain for a label for what you see in her eyes, the feeling just at the tip of your tongue, but you come up empty.

Finally, she lets out her breathe slowly, her shoulders drooping even more as she sinks into the couch behind her. Her eyes still search your face wearily but there’s a resolution in her features now. You wonder what she saw in your face

“So I told you I live this library. Yeah so it’s sort of a magical library. Andddd it sort of just apparates wherever it wants to. But it doesn’t tell me where. And we don’t know why. So I’ve been trying to figure out if there’s a pattern or something to see if there’s some sort of meaning behind it.”

Your chest tightens. “We?” You sputter.

“Yeah me, Laf, and Perry. Well mostly Laf cause they’re like really smart and sciency so they’re helping me figure it out but Perry mostly just cleans and sends me cupcakes.”  
“Laf. And…Perry” You hear yourself dumbly repeat.

“Yeah they’re my best friends. I met them my freshman year of college and when our university got caught up in a supernatural war we hunkered down in the school’s apparently magical library.” Her face darkens a little bit, her eyebrows furrowing as she continues. “and ever since I’ve been hopping all over the world in this library.” Her eyes finally find yours and you feel your lungs blissfully fill. “So, where are we?”

Your brow furrows as you think her question over. You squint at her as you wrack your brain. Where were you? A ball of ice-cold panic solidifies in your gut as you realize you couldn’t say. You’d been wandering the world for decades, not paying any attention to anything but your thirst and your stars. The last place you remember being is when you swam across the channel from England to France. That had been years ago. How many years you couldn’t say. Were you still in Europe?

“What year is it?” you say slowly and precisely, still holding in panic you felt rising in your gut.

She looks at you with an amused look on her face. “Jeez Carmilla and you make fun of me for not knowing where I am. I know you’re like some centuries old badass and immortal and all so time means nothing to you but really? It’s 2020.”

You blink. And a chuckle escapes your lips. “21st century huh?” you say quietly. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, but its quickly replaced with a frown and her shoulders slump in defeat.  
“So that probably means you have no idea where we are. Damnit.” She sighs, utter defeat coloring her small body. The sight makes you perk up a little, suddenly feeling the need to help her. Anything to keep her from slumping in on herself like she is.

“Um, I mean I was at a beach earlier, so were on a coast.” You say uncertainly. Your body straightens suddenly as you remember something else. “and I saw a sign earlier, it was written- it was written in Italian! Yeah Italian.” You say tripping over your words. You’re slightly embarrassed at your ineptitude at carrying a normal conversation but you are more so proud of yourself for remembering something like that- a bit too proud but you shove the thought away because the girl straightens a bit in her seat.

“Italian? Wow okay so we’re probably in Italy then. That’s cool. Not too far from Styria then.” She says brightly and thoughtfully, a finger coming up to tap against her lips.

Your ears prick at the familiar name. “You know Styria?” you ask cautiously. The name itself threatens to barrel through the blockade you’ve built around it. You brace yourself for her answer, knowing what would happen if that blockade were to break, and the memories trapped there were allowed to see the light.

“Yeah that’s where I went to college, where Laf and Perry are. It’s- its home for me now…I guess.” Her face is carefully frozen, her brow slightly furrowed, eyes staring into space. She blinks once and seems to imperceptible shake something out of her head. “You know Styria?”

The words are tumbling out of you before you can think clearly. “I was born in Styria. Both times. And it’s where I always come back. It’s….well I guess it’s home for me as well. It’s the center of my world.”

Your eyes flick up and you study her face. She’s studying her hands carefully, as the fiddle with the hem of her shirt. She looks like she’s trying to solve some sort of math equation in her head. After a minute of silence, she speaks: “Why haven’t you killed me yet?” After a beat she raises those clear eyes and they bore into yours. When they connect with yours you feel like someone’s punched you in the chest. You realize you like the feeling.

“I don’t know” you answer honestly. You can tell yourself you’re a predator researching its prey but you’re not an idiot. That’s not what this is and you know it like you know the sun will rise in the morning. You can lie to yourself as long as the earth keeps whirling around that blazing sun but you find that you cannot lie to this girl.

“God, I’m such an idiot” you mutter to yourself. Her breath hitches and you realize she heard you. “But no,” you continue, ”I haven’t killed you yet even though the beast inside me is screaming at me otherwise.” You lean forward resting your elbows on your knees as you plant your feet firmly on the ground.

“There’s just…something about you,” you murmur. Your head cocks to the side as you match her burning stare with a smolder of your own. In a flash, you’re standing in front of her as she sits on the couch cushion, wide eyes staring up at you. You descend slowly and sit down on the solid wood coffee table, the insides of your knees just grazing the outsides of hers as she faces you. Your hand reaches out slowly, as a moth to a flame. You see your fingers wrap delicately around a honey brown curl. Her eyes are burning into yours, and you hear her heart hammering in her chest. You inhale and take in the sweet smell of her blood. Your eyes flicker down to her lips as they part slightly.

You realize, with surprise, you are not thirsty. Not in the slightest. You know that you haven’t fed in quite a while but you cannot deny the sated, content feeling that lies low in your stomach as you look into the girls eyes. As the lock of hair between your fingers drops silently to rest on her shoulder, you let your hand rest on your lap once again. You quickly get up and make your way towards the exit.  
“Thanks for the cocoa. Sweet dreams, cupcake,” you throw over your shoulder. You can’t help but look behind you, because how could you not? She’s sitting stock still on the cushion. Her lips pursed into a thin line, just barely hiding the first glimmer of a smile. You notice with satisfaction that her shoulders are just a tiny bit less burdened than before. Your last vision is the sight of her eyes. The smoldering coals you saw earlier are sparking, almost flaming.

As you make your way back to the hatch, you realize a few things:

One: You, the creature who had commanded death for the last three and a half centuries, had just met your match in a tiny human with cocoa and a dead rabbit.

Two, the first time since you emerged from the Earth all those decades ago, you feel alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh Carm, so confused. When she was like "God I'm such an idiot" I was like yeah Carm tell me something I don't know.
> 
> And Laura so so naive. Or is she??? Later chapters we see more of the other sides of Laura. Our beautiful lesbians are multifaceted, well rounded people!
> 
> Also, don't worry. Hollstein lives always and forever.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> (I may be changing the rating to mature for the next few chapters. We're about to get DARKkkk)


	3. Winter Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carm and Laura hang out. Laura is FIESTY and Carm can't handle the truth. Also: Laf!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote another 4k cause this election is STRESSING me out and I needed stress relief.  
> All this ANGST came flowing out. Sorry ahead of time!
> 
> **references to graphic violence, themes of depression, hopelessness**

* * *

I don't know if you notice anything different  
It's getting dark and it's getting cold and the nights are getting long  
And I don't know if you even notice at all  
That I'm long gone babe I'm long gone

And the things that keep us apart  
Keep me alive  
And the things that keep me alive  
Keep me alone

This is the thing  
  


\- Fink, "This is the thing"

* * *

You pass the rest of the night in a trance. You do not know what to think of your interaction with this girl. You are still extremely thirsty, the scorched feeling in your throat and the throbbing in your temples reminds you of this. Your senses feel heightened, or more precisely, you are paying attention to your surroundings. Your unconscious mind was always scanning your environment for danger- that is not something that you can control. But you had put a wall up between your conscious experience and that predator inside you a long time ago. When the wall went up you had been trapped on the predator’s side. It had suited you. If you did not think as a sentient being, you cannot contemplate the agony of your existence or the misery of being alone. It was a survival technique.

But now.

Now that wall was at least one row of bricks shorter, infinitesimally yet significantly weaker, that buzzing in your brain you’d been feeling is louder and you feel it in your fingertips. You can hear the rustling of leaves, the crunch of your boots in the earth with distinct clarity.

You spend the night walking until you catch a faint whiff of mammal. As you follow it, you finally hear the light pulsing of a heart. Your mind instantly notices how the sound does not compare to the music of the girl’s heartbeat. You quickly shake the thought out of your head before letting the predator take over. A few minutes later you’ve drained a stag dry and you’ve finally soothed the burn in your throat enough to collapse into a deep sleep right there next to your exsanguinated dinner on the ground.

•

You go back the next night to the place you first saw her in that clearing, where for some reason you decided not to kill, but instead to follow this tiny little fireball of a girl through the trees. It’s almost a reflex, going back to see the girl who lets you fill your dead lungs with air again.

She’s there waiting for you.

The last dying rays of the sunset reflects in her eyes as she watches you approach with a neutral expression. You walk silently together to the library. Nothing needed to be said. Your return was inevitable. And you’re not surprised to find her there waiting for you. There was never a question in your mind that she’d come back. You don’t know what to make of that but you decide to ignore it for now.

You did think that maybe that burning gaze of hers wasn’t as intense as you had imagined. Surely, your imagination had exaggerated the memory. But as soon as her eyes met yours you were stunned to find it was even more intense than you remembered. The warmth that blossomed in your cold chest and the sweet air that filled your lungs made you head whirl. You found it difficult to form sentences in your mind so you decided to stay quiet to avoid making a fool of yourself. She evidently didn’t mind as she didn’t say anything either until you reached the same lounge area.

You take her “make yourself at home” comment seriously, kicking off your boots and sprawling out onto the sofa. You catch her glancing at you from across the room and the muscles in her faces tensing up, as if to hide a smile. You internally smirk to yourself while outwardly keeping your expression neutral. She makes her way over to her computer desk and plops down into her chair. She bustles around the various monitors and processors and you hear the whirring of the machines waking up. She speaks while continue to fiddle around with buttons and switches.

“I hope you don’t mind I have to get some work done so…” She trails off as she begins to concentrate on something that has popped up on the screens in front of her. Your eyes scan the various screens and you see charts and graphs and pie charts splattered across the displays. You pride yourself on being pretty well-rounded, having gone to college at least a hundred times and have degrees in a variety of fields. All that was clearly worthless as you tried to discern what the girl was reading. It looks like a foreign language to you (and you speak eight languages fluently and are at least familiar with a dozen others).

The girl reaches up and drags her finger across the screen, scrolling down through the document displayed there. You see her head cock slightly to the side, ”That can’t be right,” she mutters. She quickly picks up a stylus and circles some passage of text in red, drawing three red question marks in the margin. She ruffles through the top drawer in the ancient desk and whips out a pad of sticky notes, scribbling something hastily onto it before slapping the paper onto the edge of the monitor in one of the few unoccupied spaces left. You squint your eyes to try to decipher the text she’s written but it looks like gibberish to you, scrawled wildly and unintelligible except for the group of question marks and exclamation points which punctuated the end of the phrase.

You study her carefully as she continues to work, occasionally muttering to herself in confusion or highlighting something on the screen. Every few minutes or so, the silence in the library is interrupted by a loud smack as another post-it note is added to the mix, the screen wobbling precariously at the force. You note the fierce tension in her shoulders again. They never slump down below parallel to the ground. Her hair is in a chaotic bun, tendrils of blonde hair sticking out at all angles, getting more chaotic by the minute as she furiously scratches her head in frustration.

You look down at your cocoa which has sat untouched on the coffee table beside you and bring it to your lips to take a sip. It’s gone cold. How long have you been sitting there staring?

Your eyes snap up when you hear a loud crash. The office chair has been knocked over and you see a trembling girl bent over the desk, her palms flat on the surface, chest heaving. After a moment she snaps, her whole body flexing as she swipes the papers off her desk. She stands there with her back to you, her fist clenched at her sides as the papers slowly float their way down to the floor all around her.

“Woah, cupcake, don’t get so worked up over a little homework.” She tenses before whipping her head around and her eyes land on yours. They freeze your insides solid.

“Fuck. You.” she breathes quietly. The menace behind her voice hits you in the chest and you can’t help but wince back into the sofa. You remind yourself this girl can’t hurt you- you’re the most dangerous thing in this room. But you can’t get rid of the ball of ice that formed in your stomach as soon as her eyes met yours. You raise your hands up in mock surrender.

“Jesus Christ, creampuff. No need to bite my head off.” Her lips purse at your words and her eyes flutter closed. Her nostrils flare and she takes a shaky breath in through her nose. She exhales in a gust and her eyes open back up. You have to stop yourself from sighing in relief when you see the warmth there has returned.

She doesn’t respond to your comment, but simply retrieves the discarded chair from the floor, righting it mechanically and sits down lightly on it, returning to the screens. Suddenly, a new window pops up on her screen, a light melody accompanying it playing through some unseen speakers. The girl’s posture tenses at the sound, but relaxes slightly as she taps her finger on the “accept call” button. A red light comes on the web cam sitting precariously on top of the monitors, and suddenly the screen is filled with a face. The person is wearing safety goggles and a biohazard suit which has apparently been hastily unzipped and the hood sat on their shoulders haphazardly. Their red-orange hair stuck out at odd angles. The hair on the side of their head looks like small patches have been singed off by a flame.

“Laf! Long time no see!” The girl says, leaning back in her chair. Her voice is strained, but you think you detect a note of genuine happiness at the sight of this person.  
“Hey L, how’s it hanging?” the person asks.

“Oh well you know same old same old. I’ve been looking over the report you sent me but I don’t know what to make of it. Is it just me or does none of the data make any sense whatsoever? There’s no patterns at all. “

The ginger starts nodding their head solemnly, looking defeated. “Yeah I was hoping maybe you would be able to see something I didn’t but I guess not. “

There’s a pause. Neither of them say anything and you see the girl scratch the back of her head furiously, dislodging a few more hairs from her bun.

“Okay well I may have found out where I am. Apparently I’m somewhere in Italy.”

The person on the screen brightens slightly. “Really? How do you know? Cause the pictures you sent me of the local flora were pretty generic.”

“Well I –“ she cuts herself off suddenly, and you see her shoulders stiffen. Your own shoulders tense as you realize she’s about to give you away. You didn’t know this person and didn’t know how your recent meetings with the girl would complicate her situation. You realize you’re worried about the girl and quickly shove those thoughts away.

“Um yeah well I came across this sign and it was in Italian.” She finishes.

The ginger’s eyebrows furrow. “L, you don’t even know Italian how’d you know what language it was?”

The girl shifted nervously in her chair. “Psssh. Sure I don’t speak Italian fluently but we were in college in Austria for 3 years, I picked up a little Italian.”

The ginger rolls their eyes. “Sure Laura, if you say so. That still doesn’t tell us anything though. Where were you before, Brazil? And before that somewhere in China. And before that the middle of the pacific ocean. You’re never near any landmarks or anything important. Its just random.” The redhead runs their fingers through their hair vigorously. And takes a deep breath. ”L, I think we need to face it. The library is psychotic and has been taking you for a joyride around the world for the hell of it.”

Your eyes fall to the blonde. She’s frozen, shoulders practically bunched up at her ears. Her hands grip the arm rest of the chair in a death grip, knuckles white with the effort. You’re momentarily concerned that she’ll rip the chair apart when she suddenly relaxes her body and leans back in the chair slowly and precisely. Her body is turned slightly towards you now, as she’d rotated in the desk chair absentmindedly as she took in the ginger’s words. She temples her fingers and stares blankly into space. Her eyes are cold again.

“No Laf. I know it’s been a while now but there’s no way it’s random. I just know it. If I can just figure it out, If I can just see it we can…I can…” she trails off lost in thought. Your eyes flicker back to the ginger and see them looking sadly at the girl. It’s a knowing look. Like they’ve had this conversation a million times before and know they’ll never win it.

Laura snaps out of her trance and looks back at the screen.

“How’s Perry? And Kirsch? Did he ask Danny out yet? “ She asks brightly. You’re surprised at the contrast to the rigid girl just moments before.

The ginger smiles warmly. “Perry’s great. She’s making some cupcakes for you. And no they’re still dancing around each other like idiots. Honestly they probably could be living together with two kids and a mortgage and not admit their feeling to each other.”

Laura chuckles. “Yeah you’re probably right.” She heaves out a heavy sigh. “Okay well it was nice seeing you Laf, I’ll talk to you next week. I’ll let you know if anything interesting happens.”  
The ginger gives a tight smile and nods their head once, giving an obnoxious salute. “Aye-aye captain.”

You see Laura shake her head fondly. “Bye Laf. I miss you.”

The ginger’s smile widens and you see sincere affection in their features. “Miss you too, Laur.”

With a swift click to the keyboard, the ginger’s face disappears and gives way to a blank screen.

Silence fills the room and the girl turns fully towards you. You quickly look down at the cocoa in your hands, trying to act as if you hadn’t been paying attention. You know it’s childish but you’re suddenly unsure of yourself.

“That was Laf. They are helping me.” You let your eyes find hers and you find her face cautious. She’s looking at you like she doesn’t know how you’re going to react.

“Fascinating.” You say. Letting your voice dip heavily with sarcasm. You lay your head down on the arm of the sofa and let your eyes close.

You hear an indignant huff and the rustling of clothes brushing together. Suddenly, the cocoa is snatched out of your hands where you had rested it lightly on your stomach. When you open your eyes you see her stalking around the corner with the cup. She comes back and plops back down in her chair, back turned towards you defiantly.

“If you’re going to be mean you don’t get cocoa.” She says sweetly.

You’re stunned at her audacity. You feel like a child being reprimanded and relegated to a time-out.

Your chest roars.

“Oh sweetheart, did I hurt your feelings?” You ask just as sweetly.

Her shoulders tense but she doesn’t respond.

“Wow, not even gonna throw your papers around? No ‘fuck you’?.”

“Why are you even here?” She asks without turning around.

And that’s the question. You don’t know. You didn’t kill her the first time and then you came back and you’re sitting here drinking her cocoa (or you were) and you’re worried about what her friends think of you. None of these things make sense and you’re slowly starting to realize you don’t care. You can breathe for the first time in a century and it feels so fucking good that you don’t think anything could drag you away now.

You know it’s temporary. You will eventually kill this girl. You’ll snap and finally sake your thirst on her blood. It’s inevitable. Then you’ll go back to the numbness and maybe you’ll never breathe right again but you don’t care. You’ll drag this out as long as you can because you can’t help it.

This girl.

This girl has gotten to you and you hate it.

“Like I said, I like to play with my food. And you’re especially fun to play with.”

You see a red flush rise from her chest up her neck and onto her cheeks. You can tell she’s irate, but the sight only makes you feel warm. Like you’re basking in the sun.

“Mmm case in point. That scrunched up face you make when you’re angry is hilarious, buttercup. I haven’t had this much fun in decades.”

You think you can almost see the smoke coming out of her ears and you chuckle. You want to push her over the edge. You’re trying to cover up the desperate feeling in your chest with your nonchalance but it’s getting harder and harder.

“I’m not a toy you can play with. I’m a human person.” She spits out.

“A human person, huh?” you purr. “Oh well my apologies. Here I thought you were just a little naïve, provincial girl.” You watch her and her eyes are burning into yours. You’re on fire and you think you’ve never felt so alive.

“I’m not a little girl. I’m 25 years old. And I’m not naïve. You don’t know where I’ve been the past 5 years.” She replies. Her voice is still defiant, but it’s weaker. A small thrill goes through your limbs because you know her defenses are weakening. You go in for the kill.

“Oh I bet you’re so burdened. What with your homework, and cocoa and cute little phone calls with your little friends. I bet you sit in here all day just slaving over your little charts and graphs, eating your little cupcakes your friend bakes for you. It must be so stressful.” You started out trying to get a rise out of her but now you feel your own hackles rising as you think about her.  
This girl.

“Don’t patronize me. God, why does everyone think I’m so naïve! Just because I think I can change things for the better doesn’t mean I’m a child!” She’s yelling now and has risen from her seat. Her hands are curled into fists, knuckles bleached white.

You shake your head slowly.

“You’re a little girl with naïve, childish ideas about the world. You know nothing about living in a world that-“ you choke on the words spilling out of your throat. You close your eyes and shake you head again. “You know what? Whatever. You can believe whatever you want. Just know that when your little feelings get hurt because the world is shit and there’s nothing you or anyone can do to save you from suffering, you’ll have done it to yourself.”

“Oh sure, you’re so jaded and wise. You know, just because you’re like a million years old doesn’t mean you know everything. I know bad things happen. I know there’s evil. I’m not stupid. But there’s also goodness. And there’s hope. And that’s a hell of a lot better than whatever the hell you believe.”  
You scoff in frustration. This girl just doesn’t get it.

“It’s not about what you believe. It’s about how it is. Whether or not you believe it, there’s no good and evil. There’s just how it is and the reality is most of the time people suffer for no reason. You choosing to believe in something that doesn’t exist doesn’t change that. It just makes you pathetic.”

By the end of your reply you’re yelling too, and you look down realizing you’ve stood up from your spot on the couch. The two of you are still across the room from each other. You let your eyes find hers and your breath catches in your chest. She’s not burning anymore. She’s looks broken. You thought you’d feel victorious for finally breaking this infuriating girl, but you just feel empty. You want to snatch the words out of the air between you but there’s no taking them back.

“You know what? I felt bad for cursing at you before, but now I don’t. Even if I am pathetic, which believe me, every morning I wake up and think there’s no one in the world as pathetic as me for trying so hard- but I still try. So fuck you for trying to project your shit on me because you use your apathy and pessimism to deal with the fact that you’re just miserable and alone.”

Her words ring through the air and echo in your head. You’re frozen to the core and you can’t move or think. You’re desperately trying to prevent your mind from processing her words because you know where that will lead. You’ll have to think about Her and you don’t think you’ll survive it. Not again. You can never go back there again.

The room is dead silent as you both stare at each other. Her eyes search your face. You look down at the ground because you think she might find the truth in your eyes and you can’t bear it if she knows the level of your desperation. It’s quiet for a full minute before she speaks again.

“People deserve better than hopelessness. They deserve more. I deserve more. Everyone does. She pauses. ”Even you.”

Your eyes snap up. Your mind glitches again. The softness of her voice surprises you and you see her fists have unclenched and the anger has evaporated from her frame. You feel like you felt when you saw her smile for the first time- when you were greeted with two rows of white teeth, crinkling eyes and plump cheeks and realized it wasn’t a grimace of pain but a friendly smile.  
Before you can’t get your thoughts in order, she turns and plops down in her chair. Picking up a pen and starting to read her reports again.

You blink furiously. You can’t figure out how to feel so you go to what you know. You choose anger over desperation because you think it’s infinitesimally better than what you were feeling before.  
You calmly envision wrenching her out of the chair and taking her easily. Simply ending her and your thirst at the same time. The girl needs to know her place in the world. There’s a natural order to things and your instinct is to let her know what it is the world’s most dangerous predator is truly capable of.

But then you hear her suck in a tiny gasp and you realize her frame is shaking almost imperceptibly. She has a pen poised on her post-it note pad but it doesn’t move. After another moment you hear a tiny sniffle and you realize she’s crying. Your anger deflates instantly you’re mind snaps back to yourself, all thoughts of killing floating away like smoke. You find yourself taking a reflexive step towards her. You can’t fill your lungs again and even though you’d lived with this feeling for decades, it feels so much worse after having been able to properly breathe for the last day. You desperately want her to turn towards you so you can see those burning coals in her eyes and feel warm again because you are so cold.

You always hated the cold and it’s almost unbearable.

“C-Cupcake.” You say quietly. Your mind is reeling and the only thing you can think about is how you can’t leave without seeing her eyes one last time. She doesn’t move. You hear her take a shaky breath. “Hey. Cutie.” You try again. But she doesn’t budge.

You start to turn away. You’re starting to accept you’ll never be warm again, but you try one more time. You just need one little hit of your new addiction. One last time before you go back to the numbness.

“Laura.” Her head finally turns and you’re met with wet cinnamon eyelashes and golden brown irises. You let out a breath and fill your lungs. Her nostrils flare but her face is otherwise impassive. You wonder how she became so good at hiding her feelings from showing in her features.

You didn’t really think she’d turn around and realize you should probably say something, but your mind is blank.

She just looks at you and you bask in the warmth of her gaze, even though she is nothing but cold towards you.

But she is still warmer than you on her coldest day. In that moment she’s like a winter sun, warming your cheeks just barely to take the edge off the biting cold.

But you had always belonged in the dark. You were never meant to be warm. Her warmth was not yours to take. It was hers and hers only. You close your eyes and breathe in her smell one last time. Earth, vanilla, and now salty tears. You let it fill you brain and hold it until every crack and crevice of your undead brain has been touched by the perfume. You turn without looking. You think you might never leave if you see her eyes burning into you again.

And you have to leave. You know this. Because she’s fire and you’re ice. You’ll smother her and she’ll burn you up until you’re only vapor. You know you may not survive going back to the dark. Not while maintaining what is left of your sanity. You’ll have to give up the last of your sanity to the beast. You almost feel angry at her because she showed you what warmth is and now you can never forget. Before, it was easier because you never really knew what being whole felt like so you didn’t know what you were missing. But now you know and that knowledge will be the end of you.

But, you find yourself unable to cling on to that childish anger. You might never come up for air every again which might be unbearable. But, you know for a fact that if you don’t know in the back of your mind that this girl is alive somewhere burning through glaciers with only her eyes it might irrevocably break you to pieces. You think that even if you become frozen solid, never to be warm again, you would still give up every joule of heat you had to give if it meant she kept burning.

So you leave without another glance. And you let yourself descend back into the cold depths of the abyss you’d only just crawled out of. But you welcome it- gladly almost- knowing for every shiver and every crack in your frozen heart, she is warmer for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man this one HURT to write. Carm breaks my heart. 
> 
> My Laura is feisty and takes NO SHIT. But also when she talked about thinking she was pathetic she broke my heart all over again.
> 
> But these two have EXPLOSIVE chemistry and I wanted to show that in all its glory. Still endgame though!
> 
> Also, more plot moving chapters coming...cause what the heck is going on with the library and what are those documents Laura is reading??? 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. The Old Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carm thinks about stuff. A lot.
> 
> A flash into Carm's past.
> 
> A sliver of hope. and Laura.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would take longer but this damn election is STILL going and so you get 3.2k more words as a result of my stress!
> 
> This chapter is very personal for me. I really like the way it turned out. I hope you do too.
> 
> **more graphic violence, blood/gore descriptions, themes of depression, hopelessness**

* * *

Who is this man that comes my way?  
The dark ones shriek  
They scream his name  
Is this the one they say will set the captives free?  
Jesus, rescue me

Set me free of the chains holding me  
Is anybody out there hearing me?  
Set me free

-Casting Crowns, "Set me Free"

* * *

When you emerge from the ground through the hatch it feels familiar. The anguish you feel is completely new and you feel like a giant fist is squeezing around your chest. But as you hear the hatch close with a final clanging sound, you can’t help but be brought back to all those years ago when you emerged from the ground covered in rotten blood with bombs and machine guns clanging around you.

  
You remember feeling like an animal, the sun boiled your fragile skin and you coughed up hard chunks of coagulated blood onto the ground before finally gasping air into your lungs for the first time in almost a century. The air tasted like metal and rotten flesh and the gunpowder smoke burned your airways, but it felt so good that you fell to the ground and just breathed for what must have been hours.

Finally, your senses returned to you, and you remembered what you were and your instincts kicked in. You were thirsty and there was blood and gore all around you. You snapped and fed on dozens of young men. You still remember their shock at seeing you. You must have been a frightful sight, covered in rotten blood stalking through the battlefield, trench to trench, bullets bouncing off your skin harmlessly to the mud. You were lost to the beast and it was the most natural thing in the world. You mind and body functioned seamlessly together as you hunted through the day and into the night. Kill after kill you drank your fill from the brave young men in the trenches of Europe. You had no coherent thoughts in your mind until your last victim.

He was older. You remember salt and pepper hair and creases around his eyes and mouth. His face was weathered and tanned, covered in blood and mud but his eyes were clear. You had come up on platoon of sleeping soldiers and found him sitting a ways away from the group. You’d targeted him because he looked strong and healthy- not as withered and sickly looking as many of the other soldiers had looked. You could afford to be picky now with your prey, having drunk more than your fill already in the past days and there was plethora of vulnerable prey available on that battlefield to choose from.

He was carefully cleaning his gun by lantern light. You remember approaching him slowly, watching his movements as you automatically calculated the threat he posed to you as you always had during a hunt- just as you had when you met Laura. While this mountain of a man with sinewy forearms and meaty fists was most definitely more of a threat than the girl, he was no match for you. He continued to methodically clean his rifle until you were merely feet away from him. You stopped, something about his demeanor was disconcerting, and alarm bells were dimly ringing in your predator’s consciousness. Your subconscious had keenly picked up on something you weren’t quite aware of yet. At that moment his head came up, eyes leaving his delicate work and taking in your form. His eyes widened slightly and thick, scraggly eyebrows raised halfway to his hairline.

You bared your fangs menacingly, hoping to clue him in on the danger he was in. You wanted his fear. You needed it. The creature you became when you emerged from the Earth wanted nothing more than to taste the bitter tang of terror on your tongue.

His eyes flicked down to your mouth, taking in your fangs and you saw a flicker of recognition there, his eyebrows returning to their original place, eyes returning to yours with a knowing and resigned look. He took in a deep breath and set his shoulders. His gravelly voice filled the air.

“Take what you need then and leave. I’ll not fight you if ya leave my boys ‘round here alone.”

Your brain glitched. You felt your brain recoil like rubber band and suddenly you came back to yourself and your bloodlust evaporated from your limbs and joined the smoke-laced fog that blanketed the ground above the trenches. You stood there and stared into those clear grey eyes and remembered who you were. You were Carmilla Karnstein. You were born in 1680 and you had died in 1698 when you were turned to a vampire. And you were here now, freed from your imprisonment in the earth standing in front a man. A man with clear grey eyes and salt and pepper hair and love for his gun and his platoon.

You don’t know how long you stood there, captured by his gaze before you saw him stand and slowly make his way toward you, oily rag still wrapped in a muddy fist. He was tall, and by the time he reached your space he towered over you and you had to crane your neck slightly to look into his eyes. His hand came up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours and you smelled the tangy scent of oil and dirt before the light scratch of the cloth pressed gently to your cheek. He gingerly wiped you face clear of the gore that had accumulated there, his brow furrowing slightly as he did so. When he was done you gasped as the cold air hit your face. A moment later, you felt a warm, wetness touch your cheeks and it wasn’t until a callused thumb swiped your cheek that you realized you were crying.

The man held your gaze for another moment as you stayed silent, tears streaming down your face staring into his eyes like you could meld yourself to the steel grey orbs. He took your hand and placed the rag into your palm, closing your fingers around it.

“Looks like you need this more than I do.” He said, with a twitching mouth and crinkling eyes.

He turned, walking slowly back to his spot and sat down with a huff and a grunt. Whipping out another slightly cleaner rag from a pocket in his shirt, he resumed cleaning his weapon. Slowly and reverently rubbing it back and forth of the barrel. Without looking up he spoke softly but firmly.

“Go.”

You obeyed.

There was no room for argument with the finality of his tone. Your legs carried you away from the man. You felt sated finally. In fact, you felt bloated as the gallons of blood you had consumed sloshed in your belly. You felt the blood and the gore that covered your bloody which in some places had dried so it was caked onto your skin and was cracking and crumbling as you moved. In other places it was hot and sticky, and you felt it slide and drip around you.

But your face was blissfully clean and clear. You felt a sliver your humanity had been returned to you with each swipe of that oily rag and callused thumb across your cheek. As you walked off the battlefield you weren’t quite a person but you were not an animal either. That knowledge comforted you in some ways and terrified you in others.

When you lifted yourself out of the trench and your eyes found the night sky for the first time in a century you thought you heard a whistled tune emanate from the direction from which you came. It was out of tune and faded in and out as the wind wax and waned. But the sound felt so intrinsically human - so quintessentially alive that the vice grip on your lungs loosened just enough that you thought that maybe you could go on.

So you did.

As the sound of the hatch falling closed rang in your mind, you can’t help but look up to the stars again seeing steel greys eyes and smelling oil and smoke. The silence of the night was deafening. Laura and the old soldier were the same in many ways. They had both willingly offered you kindness when they knew could have meant their painful demise. Both times you had gone on to squander that kindness. You’d gone pack to your callous murderous ways just weeks after the old soldier’s whistling had died in your ears and within minutes you think you might have taken and destroyed a part of the hope which this girl so desperately clung to. You had taken what was given to you greedily and exploited it so totally that you had soiled it.

Your eyes fell from the sky and you walked away from the hatch. You had walked away from the soldier without a backward glance and now you do the same to Laura. Walking away is something you are quite good at. It’s something that’s kept you walking on this Earth for so many decades though many hardships and perilous situations. It was survival and you did what you had to do.

When you looked into those wet eyes and damp lashes you knew.

When she told you that you deserved better even after you had done your very best to dismantle her hope you knew.

Hell, when she offered you hot cocoa while you were in the middle of planning her brutal murder you knew.

You knew if you stayed, this girl would offer you grace and you would take it. You would take and take because that’s who you are and she would give and give because that’s who she is. You would be filled to the brim with her grace and you’d ask for more until she had nothing left to give. She would one day realize you were a taker and stop giving. She would stop trying because she would know it would never be enough.

And you think that maybe that would be infinitely more tragic than anything you could ever lose from leaving.

•  
You find yourself back at the shore. You don’t remember how you got there but all of a sudden there is sand between your toes and you’re staring out over the grey waves as the sun rises behind you. It’s overcast, the morning fog hovers over the shore and renders the waves a dull grey color. The tide is coming in. With each breaking wave the encroaching foam inches its way closer and closer to your toes. The grey reminds you of the old soldier’s eyes and the steel grey color of his well-oiled gun and it haunts you. All you can feel is century old rotten congealed blood on your skin and your nostrils are filled with gunpowder and mud. The cool breeze on your face reminds you of the way your face felt when it was wiped clean.

You’re stuck in an in between place, your mind is fixated on that moment when you turned around and left the man with dried blood crumbling from your body. You see the grey ocean in front to of you and you feel the ice in your gut and you can’t help thinking how you’re back there again. You turn your back on kindness because it makes your stomach roll and you mind rejects it like a gag reflex.  
It’s been decades and you haven’t let yourself ponder at this phenomenon until now. But you think that you always knew that you and kindness would never get along. You were never meant to have grace because of what you were. What you are. It’s a natural oxymoron. The two things are mutually exclusive. Unable to simultaneously exist together in the same world.

There is a natural order to things and as powerful and menacing a creature as you may be, you are powerless against the forces of fate and physics.

You think that maybe that’s okay. You are a monster, you know this like you know the sky is blue. Your inner cynic notes the sky is more of a grey color at the moment but you ignore the irony because its beside the point.

You’re a monster. Simply by definition. There’s no arguing there. You’ve done monstrous things. You’ve killed, you mauled, you’ve tortured, you’ve lied, you’ve manipulated and you’d liked it. By any religious institution in the world you deserve to burn in Hell. You think you’ve broken every one of the ten commandments several times over, with emphasis on the murder (although you’ve never been married yourself you have certainly helped others commit adultery, so you figure that counts as well).

You didn’t believe in karma. You’d lived long enough to see that the world is not that fair. It does not care. It does not mete out punishment nor reward to anyone. It simply is. It was physics. There’s a natural order of power and energy but in general, molecules bounced off one another according to random fluctuations and equal reactions. There was nothing anyone could do to halt nor hasten it.  
But you understand the propensity for humanity to believe otherwise. Even in the face of the evidence to the contrary, it feels like there should be karma. There’s a seed inside every human mind that expects fairness from birth. You’d seen it in every culture in all corners of the world, and even in some animal species. You feel it, maybe because you were once human, too.

So, you think that maybe your condition, having been destined to be eternally cut off from Good, is satisfactory, in a way. Because that’s the way it should be. That’s fair. And maybe your instinct to recoil from good things is your body’s way of imposing that fairness on a random and unfair world. It’s futile, you know. But it is something you can control. There aren’t many things you can think of that you can control so you take it.

These thoughts comfort you slightly. As you gaze at the dull, rolling waves you’re feel a bit more settled knowing your destiny is set and that you control it to some extent.  
But simultaneously, you feel a pit of despair coil in your gut you had never experienced before. Despair is different than desperation. Desperation depends on hope. Hope that something could change eventually. Despair is the absence of hope.

As you contemplate this, the icy ball in your gut grows and grows and you think that maybe you won’t survive it. But then you remember you are immortal and you are unbreakable. You can never die and there is no limit to the suffering you can endure. You feel yourself sinking into the sand below you as the weight of this knowledge lodges itself into your brain. You are unsure if you will ever get up from the beach. And you wonder if you might lay there for eternity.

The sky is darkening now, and the gray ocean is turning darker and darker along with it. The sun was never able to penetrate the cloud bank that day. You are so cold, and you have not moved an inch since you sat down.

Suddenly your ears prick. You hear something above the quiet roar of the waves around you. In between the wax and wane of the tide you hear a beating. In all your despair your brain was still searching it’s environment. You are still a predator. You still instinctually search for potential prey and threats.

Your breath catches in your throat as you recognize the beating. It’s unmistakable and even though your gums ache as they fill with venom in response to the thought a new meal, you’re not thirsty.  
It becomes louder and louder until it’s right behind you, a mere few yards away. You can hear each valve open and close cleanly, the quiet rush of blood flowing through the large vessels and the trickle through capillaries in the periphery.

And then you smell it. Earth, sweat, and vanilla.

You can’t help it.

You turn your head to look back at her.

She’s there. Waiting for you.

Clear honey eyes staring right through you. Right through your skin and through your tissue- straight through that icy ball inside your gut. It melts instantly and a gasp escapes your lips.  
No words are exchanged but you smell gunpowder and oil and your legs flex and then you’re standing. Her eyes crinkle and her hand comes out to reach towards you as she begins to move slowly towards you. The movement is sure and her body is steady.

Here she is. Offering herself to you like you knew she would. You marvel at the creature in front of you.

Who is this girl who comes your way?

You feel the cold dark inside you shriek and retreat from your bones.

How cruel it is, you think, that as soon as you had accepted all hope was lost the universe sent this girl to come and wait for you. How cruel it is that once you had finally let go of the hope you had so desperately clung to in all the decades since you met that old soldier on the battlefield this girl was here waiting for you to take her hand. So ready to give all that you had just lost right back to you.  
She’s stopped in front of you and you’re looking down into her eyes and at her hand. Back and forth, back and forth when she speaks.

“Come on.” She murmurs.

You think about the difference between despair and desperation. You think about the way it is and the way it should be. You think about what you deserve and what is offered to you. You think about steel grey eyes and sinewy forearms. You think about wet cinnamon lashes and smoldering brown eyes. You think about sitting here on the beach for the rest of eternity and you think about if you were to take her hand. You think about that gravelly voice telling you to go and this velvet soft voice telling you to come.

You think about these things but the same words are running through your head like a prayer.

She’s waiting here for you.

And then you think- fuck fairness. Who the hell cares about fair?

Your legs carry you forward and you hand is in hers. Your heart squeezes when she smiles.

You breathe and you feel the air drag all the way down in your toes.

You may be a monster but as far as you can tell the universe doesn’t keep score, even though it should. It’s arbitrary and uncaring and you have to make something of your undead life or else you’ll never, ever get off the ground again.

So you walk with her. You know you’re squeezing the life out of her hand but she doesn’t complain.

You can’t let go again.

You can’t walk away again.

Not this time.

Because the depths of your despair are simply too much for you to bare. The hope she gives you now radiating through the warmth of her hand makes you feel weak in the knees. You’re the weakest you’ve ever been and that’s why you go with her. Because you’re not strong enough not to.

The depths of your depravity may very well ruin her but you have to try. You have to.

Because as cruel as the universe may be for giving you this hope only after you’d finally accepted that all hope was lost for you, you look into honey brown eyes and you can’t help but think it’s so damn beautiful too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned that war flashback but it just came to me. I ended up loving it! Comment and lemme know what you think of our grisly old soldier I'm curious. It's cool if you don't like it. 
> 
> This chapter is close to my heart. Carm's thinking here is based off things I have thought and felt in some rough times of my life. (except for the parts about murdering people obvi lol) But same goes for the hope at the end! 
> 
> I ended up slipping some Series quotes in there in a variety of ways bc we all know the Carmilla script is BOMB.  
> also did you catch my alliterations?" Taste the biTTer Tang of Terror on your Tongue" sick!  
> and "kill after kill you drank you fill" lol you may think they're cringy but I'm QUITE proud of myself so deal lol.
> 
> That bit in there about fairness being innate in all people is actually inspired from the opening chapter of CS Lewis's book "Mere Christianity".
> 
> some of Carm's inner monologue around where she says "Who is this girl" is inspired by lyrics from a song by Casting Crown's "Set Me Free"


	5. The Smell of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A game of 20 questions
> 
> Carm is TRYING but ugh she's still a mess
> 
> The SCOOBY GANNNGGG
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I stayed up last night to watch the election come in and wrote this while I watched.  
> Since Pennsylvania and Georgia flipped blue, I was in a better mood so this chapter is lighter and dare I say- humorous - at times lol.
> 
> Here's 6k more words! Enjoy!
> 
> ***explicit sexual references, descriptions of violence, blood, some depression themes although not as bad as previous chapters***

* * *

Welcome to my dark side  
It's gonna be a long night

Welcome to my darkness, I been here a while  
Clouding up the sunlight, hurting for a smile  
Or something  
But something always turns into nothing

Oh, I drain your life  
'Til there's nothing left but your blood shot eyes  
Oh, I take my time  
'Til I show you how I feel inside

Bishop Briggs, "Dark Side"

* * *

“Do you have fangs?”

“Yes.”

“Like all the time? Or only when you want too? Or is it like an involuntary thing?”

“No. No. Yes. It’s instinctual. Sometimes I can calm myself down and get them to retract.”

“Can I see them?”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d have to get… excited.”

“Okay. Do you have claws?”

“No, cupcake. No claws. I’m not a werewolf.” You chuckle.

“Right. Sorry. So, If I were to punch you right now, would I like break my hand?”

“You wanna try and see?”

“Um no, I’m good thanks. So you can eat human food? Do you like it? Can you live on it?”

“I can eat it. But I don’t think I can live on it. Never tried before.”

“Do you sparkle in the sun?”

“NO. God why does everyone think that?”

“There was this movie about vampires. They sparkled.”

“What the frilly hell…”

“Don’t worry about it. Okay so no sparkling. But does the sun hurt you?”

“Yeah it kind of stings. If I haven’t fed in a while it hurts more.”

You take a deep breath because she’s been rattling off questions for over an hour since you arrived in the library and you’ve barely had time to breathe. After not having said a word on the hike to the hatch and the short walk through the dark to the stone door she apparently had a lot of words saved up. She hadn’t let go of your hand once you had taken it on the beach until you sat down gingerly on the couch. She took up her position on the desk chair and asked you if she could ask you about being a vampire.

You were confused at that turn of events, considering the heaviness of your last few interactions but you appreciated it immensely. She obviously picked up on your discomfort and was attempting to both assuage your apprehensiveness and satisfy her apparently extensive curiosity in vampire lore.

She whipped out a notebook from nowhere and fired off her queries. You answer her questions honestly without holding back but without embellishment. She never falters when she hears your answers. You always brace yourself in the tiny breath of a second between when the words leave you lips and when her brain processes the words to create meaning. You brace yourself for the disgust. The horror. The abhorrence. But it never comes. No matter how gruesome and detailed you get, her eyes never leave yours, she merely accepts the words as they are, taking them in stride and often times you’ve barely finished answering the last question before she’s barreling forward with another follow-up. She’s relentless, but she does fall into silence on occasion, her brain gathering and assessing the enormous amounts of new data it has obtained, trying to fit it into what she knows about her world. Trying to find meaning. That part is what captures your curiosity. How she always tries to find meaning in everything.

“How old are you?”

“Well you said it was 2020 right? I was born the first time in 1680. You do the math.”

“How old were you when you became a vampire?”

“18. I was at a ball. Everyone was killed. I was turned by Mother.”

“Mother?”

You’re silent. You’re not talking about this with her. If you say it out loud you think you might lose your flimsy control over yourself. She studies you through the silence and you attempt to keep an indifferent look on your face. Her eyes flicker over your features. You think she’s going to press you. but she doesn’t.

You’re relieved. You promised yourself you would try. You needed to try with this girl because you couldn’t go back to that beach. And you think that line of questioning might make you lose your tenuous control on yourself and you can’t risk it until you are certain you are ready. You can’t walk away a third time.

You decide to ask a question of your own to distract her, just in case.

“On the beach. How did you know where to find me?”

She looks at you in slight surprise which them morphs into soft amusement. Her eyes crinkle and she purses her lips fighting a smile. The sight would make you blush if that were possible.  
“You told me you were on the beach yesterday. When you didn’t come back to the clearing I just started walking in the direction I remember you came from when I first met you.”  
It’s a perfectly logical response. But you’re still confused. Your skin feels prickly and you feel exposed.

“Why?” you ask quietly. The word barely escapes your lips but you know she hears you because her face softens.

“Because I wanted to.” She says simply.

You’re not sure what that means but the way she says it, it’s like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. She doesn’t let you dwell on her answer though.

“When you drink from someone, do they automatically become a vampire?”

You heave another sigh and lean back in the sofa, propping your feet up on the table in front of you. At this rate, you may be here all night answering her inane questions. You might as well settle in and get comfortable, you think.

“No. I mean usually I just drink them dry. But you have to leave some blood for the change to happen.” There’s also a ritual involved but you decide to leave that out. You’ve actually only seen it happen once and you were a bit distracted at the time. You don’t want to have to recount that part of your story yet. You can’t talk about Her yet.

“So you kill someone every time you feed?”

“Generally, yes. It’s hard to stop once I’ve started. And I usually don’t have a reason to stop.”

“How often do you have to feed?”

“If I drink someone dry I can go about a week before I start to feel like I need to feed again. Lately I’ve been going a few months between feedings.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t do it unless I have to. I don’t really enjoy it anymore.”

“Anymore?”

You pause. You want her to know. You need her to know what you are. Because your interaction with her is meaningless unless she’s fully informed. You want her to stay with you without any interference or manipulation of the truth from you. She hasn’t flinched so far, even when you described in detail your favorite way to kill someone. (For the life of you don’t know why she wanted to know but you’d somehow let it slip that you hated eviscerating someone through their abdomen because of the smell. Naturally, she then wanted to know your favorite evisceration method). You continue.

“I used to live for it. The thrill of the hunt. It’s an instinctual thing. My brain is wired for it. In the 1700s I would feed every night. Just for the hell of it. I liked it. Loved it really. I got off on it. I remember thinking once that I must have been destined to be a vampire all along. It was intoxicating.”

“But you don’t now.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. I do not.”

“Why not?”

You pause to think. You hadn’t paused to reflect on your actions over the past few decades but you thought you knew the core reasons.

“The thrill of killing someone is all in the power exchange. It’s the absolute rush you get when another living being is completely vulnerable to you. When you see in their eyes that they know they’re helpless. They’re at your complete mercy. You have the ability to decide. Live or die. That kind of power is addicting.

I started to realize that it didn’t mean anything. That power. It was meaningless. Empty. In the grand scheme of things, they were going to die eventually anyway. It used to be you could die from a simple kitchen accident. Maybe someone slipped while chopping some vegetables. They could die from infection. Or even now, you could die just by driving in a car. So, me ending someone’s life, wasn’t any more meaningful than someone driving to work and running a red light. Not exactly a power trip when you see it that way. And honestly, power can go fuck itself. I don’t want it. It’s bullshit. I just want to live my life and not be bothered.”

You watch her wearily. You have no idea why you’ve just given her a philosophy lecture, but the words just spilled out of your mouth. Her eyes are transparent, she does not react to anything you say, she simply takes it in.

She takes you in.

Exactly as you are.

“Ready to run for the hills yet, creampuff?”

“No, of course not.” Her brow furrows just slightly a look of confusion on her face. It looks sincere and almost miffed that you could imply such a thing which confuses you. And ticks you off a bit.  
“Come on, cupcake. I know you’re thinking it. You’re not stupid. I know you’ve calculated how many people I’ve killed in that pretty, little head of yours.”

“Well yeah. But I’m still not going anywhere.”

You purse your lips. A flicker of frustration flaring in your gut. What is wrong with this girl?

“So it doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed thousands of people. And liked it?”

She just looks at you blankly.

“That I tore people apart, limb from limb because I liked to hear their screams? That I got off on their fear?”

You think you see a flicker of something in her eyes but it’s gone before you can be sure. You promised yourself you would behave but you also promised not to hold back. You decide to turn it up a notch…or ten.

“It doesn’t bother you that I lured dozens of innocent girls in, seduced them, fucked them and then turned them over to my mother to do god knows what with?”

You see the muscle in her temple flex, and you hear her teeth grinding together as she clenches her jaw. You let a smirk spread across your face. You hadn’t planned on talking about Mother, but you were on a roll and you go with it.

“Aw cupcake, I’ve got you now. Yes all those innocent girls. I remember them all so vividly.”

You get up and start moving towards her where she still sitting in her desk chair. You glide towards her, like the predator you are. A flood of adrenaline hits you and your gums start to ache. Her eyes are blazing and her nostrils flare as she watches you approach her. You’re getting to her, you know it. And you’re getting off on it. You’re too caught up in her scorching eyes to feel guilty. You’re letting your emotions get the better of you and you’re dangerously close to the line you drew yourself but something in you needs her to know.

“Honestly it wasn’t that hard. Just tell them they’re pretty, tell them you love them, tell them all the things they are dying to hear. They were putty in my hands.” You’re standing right in front of her now, she looks up at you, chin jutted out defiantly. You lean down slowly, not breaking eye contact. You’re inches from her face now, you can feel the tiny puffs of her breaths fan across your face. You can hear her heart racing in spite of the stoic look on her face. You know you’ve got to her and you feel victorious and terrified at the same time.

“By the time I got them into bed they were begging me to touch them. So I touched them in ways they’d never been touched before.” You lean down further and your lips are just barely brush the shell of her ear. Your voice is barely a whisper. “I’d make them come harder than their husbands ever could. I’d make them scream my name in ecstasy and then I’d make them scream my name in fear. I’d drink from them until they were almost dry. I didn’t kill them, because Mother had other plans for them.” You lean back just far enough to look into her eyes. Her heart is bounding against her rib cage, and you see the pulse thundering in her carotid artery out of the corner of your eye. She isn’t breathing.

“I didn’t mind really. The hunt was what I was in it all for. A good fuck and a good dinner. Whatever Mother did with them was none of my concern. ” You pause, letting your words sink in. Her eyes bounce back and forth across your face. They settle on your eyes and you feel cold. She’s burning, simmering hotter than the sun and you feel so, so cold in comparison. She lets out her breath finally, slowly. You breathe in and the smell of her fills your lungs. There it is again. That inexplicable element that makes you feel whole. This girl is alive. And you are dead. You back away slowly from her, never breaking eye contact. With every step away from those flaming irises you feel colder and colder. You finally feel the couch hit the back of your knees so you plop down. She hasn’t flinched.

“What about now, sweetheart. Still wanna make cocoa and talk all night?” You lean back, spreading your knees lewdly, and lace your fingers behind your head. You try your best to outwardly appear aloof but you’re shaking, and you silently beg the universe that she can’t see it. You’re terrified you’ve gone too far.

You can’t go back.

You can’t go back.

Not again.

You can hear her heart racing you can practically feel the heat coming off of her. Her fingers are bled white from gripping the arm rest so tightly. She’s as taught as a bow string, ready to pop at the slightest touch. You breathe in again, expecting to finally smell the tangy perfume of fear that you know will be emanating from her now. Your breath catches. All you smell is that same combinations of scents. Vanilla, chocolate, earth, and Laura.

“No.” she says slowly and precisely. Her stare bores into your eyes, unblinking and unforgiving. She releases her death grip on the chair and clenches her hands into fist.

“No. I know what you’re trying to do. You’re not gonna scare me away, Carm. I know you’re a vampire. Violence and blood lust and you know…regular lust… is kind of implied. If you were gonna kill me, you would have done it by now and we both know it. I don’t know why you haven’t but I’m sure as hell not complaining.” Her voice is firm and piercing. She’s got you pegged, and you know it. You just stare at her blankly like the imbecile you are.

“You think you’re this soulless monster but you’re not.”

“But-“

“-but nothing. You may have a past but you’re not that person anymore. You know how I know? Because my jugular is still very much intact even though I know I drive you up the wall with my ‘childish ideas of right and wrong’.” Her voice drops to a surprisingly accurate imitation of your voice and you can’t stop a chuckle from escaping your lips. “and my incessant and inane questions about vampirism. So quit the bullshit.”

You’re genuinely smiling at her now even though she’s obviously angry. Her eyes are narrowed and they cut sharply into yours but you don’t care. Your smiling seems to irritate her further and she opens her mouth and takes a breath to continue her rant, finger poised in the air dramatically when the ground beneath you begins to shake.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you’re locked in each other’s gaze for a moment while books tumble off shelves around you and furniture scoots across the floor.

There’s a blinding flash of white light, and then it’s black.

•

The darkness surrounds you completely. You wonder if you’re dead, if this is what death was like for vampires. Just blackness. A void. And then you smell something terrible and you never really thought about what Hell might smell like, but it made sense that it would smell bad.

And then you feel an aching pain in your neck and it’s not the worst pain you’ve felt but it’s really not comfortable. You think that maybe Hell could do better than a crick in your neck but who are you to complain?

Then you hear it. And you know for sure you’ve been damned. You hear her heart beating. Her rhythm is unmistakable. You’d committed its cadence to memory while you sipped on that first cup of cocoa.  
You’re almost amused at the creativity. You would not have thought of such a simple thing to torture somebody with for eternity. It’s so simple yet so brilliant. You think that if you ever see Hades around here you would have to give him your kudos for that one.

Because there’s nothing that you can think that could be worse than listening to the beating heart of the girl who saved you but you ruined and promptly lost for the rest of eternity.  
The thought crushes you but then you ponder at the addition of the smell and the mild pain in your neck. You’re lost at those additions to your torture. They seem…unnecessary? Random? And honestly just plain petty.

Then your eyes open.

You’re in the library. Laura’s library. You’re sitting in a chair, facing her Great Wall of Monitors. You look down and there are thick ropes tied around your torso. A necklace of garlic cloves hangs around your neck. Your hands are restrained around your back and you feel a strip of heavy duty tape is plastered over your mouth.  
This is defiantly odd, you think, but maybe you’re missing something?

You go to try to break from your restraints but you find you’re incredibly weak. That’s when you register the scorching burn in your throat and throbbing temples. You’re thirsty. You feel like you haven’t drank in months but considering the amount of garlic hanging around your neck it has probably only been days.

You zone in on that sweet beating heart again and discern she’s close by. Maybe 20 feet or so away. She must be in the next room. Your head snaps to face the direction the sound is emanating from and you see the doorway which you had presumed lead to a pantry of some sort. It was the door through which she went to retrieve the hot cocoa.

Suddenly, the beating grows louder and you hear quick steps approaching the doorway. You sit up straighter.

She rounds the corner with a large blue rectangular mug in hand, headed for her desk when her eyes flick over to you casually. She screeches to a halt and double takes. Brown liquid sloshes out of her mug and onto the carpet and the front of her jeans but you’re more focused on her eyes.

No, you think, this can’t be Hell.

Not with those eyes.

The eyes in question are wide as saucers as they look at you. You can’t help but slump a little in your chair as you sit in her gaze. Relief washes trough you as you realize you haven’t lost her again. You’re still here on Earth. You’re still here with Laura.

“Ohmygod You’re awake!” She squeaks. She places a hand her heart as if to steady it. You can heart it race and stutter. “So you’re probably wondering what’s going on and I can explain but just know that I didn’t have a choice and they practically held me down until I agreed to this. I tried to explain to them you’re not like that but they didn’t believe me.”

You’re really more confused than you were two minutes ago after her short ramble but it’s not like you can say anything with the tape over your mouth. You furrow your brows and hmmph at her.  
“Oh! Right. Sorry!” She sets her mug down on the table and scurries towards you. “I can take that off since it’s just me here right now. Plus, you don’t look like you can go anywhere right now anyway.”  
Her hand comes up to your face and you lock eyes. Her fingers graze your cheek as she slowly peels the now damp tape off your mouth. You barely register the pain because you catch a whiff of her scent and it invades all your senses.

Earth, vanilla, Laura.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in that smell. When you open them she’s looking down at you with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, burning in your throat is searing and all you can think about is soothing it.

“Cupcake.” You croak.

“Yeah, Carm?” She asks softly. Your lips twitch at the nickname but you really need a drink.

“Blood.” You groan. The throbbing in your head is making it hard to string sentences together and hearing your voice reverberate in your own head is not at all pleasant.

“Oh! Oh my gosh I didn’t even think of that. You’re probably sooo thirsty. Although you said you could go weeks without drinking and it’s only been like 9 days and I thought you said you had a deer or something that first night –“

“Creampuff.”

“Sorry. Um yeah all I have is another rabbit is that okay?” She asks

You nod weakly and she scampers back around the corner. It a split second she’s back with another damn rabbit carcass and she stands in front of you hesitantly.

“So like how does this work do you want me to hold it for you or should I cut it open and led it drip-“

You head lashes out and your teeth connected with the rabbit’s neck. The blood is cold and slightly coagulated but the anti-coagulates in your blood soon remedy that and then blood is flowing freely down your throat.

The girl holds the rabbit’s feet awkwardly in the air above your head. Your eyes flicker up to her face and it looks slightly grossed out but also a bit fascinated. She’s not disgusted with you.

After a minute your initial thirst is slaked, and your wits return to you. You realize you’re making slurping noises and moaning occasionally. Your eyes meet here sand you stop a moan in your throat, and attempt you drain your meal a bit more cleanly.

She sees this and smirks. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. By all means, enjoy your dinner uncensored.” You roll your eyes and proceed to make an utterly obscene slurping noise and borderline pornographic moan and her smirk breaks out into a full-blown grin. She rolls her eyes despite herself.

“You are unbelievable.” She says shaking her head fondly.

By now the flow of blood has slowed to a trickle and you think you’ve drank enough for now. You release your hold on the rabbit and the girl turns disappears around the corner briefly and returns with a dish rag.

The throbbing in your temples as dulled to a light pulsing and the burning in your throat is more of an annoying itch that you can ignore easily. You watch her as she approaches you with the rag and she’s still smiling fondly at you for some reason when she stops and kneels in front of you.

You’ve always been a bit of a messy eater so you know your face must be cover in gore right now so you smack your lips loudly and run your tongue over your mouth lewdly. You do it because you think it might make her smile grow wider and you’re a hopeless Laura-holic at this point.

The corners of her mouth do twitch minutely and her eyes crinkled just a bit more but her eyes look at you with an intensity that makes you feel open and exposed. Like she can read you like book and there’s nothing you can do about it. The thought terrifies you.

Suddenly you feel the rough fabric of the cold, damp dish rag drag slowly and firmly across your face, starting at the left corner of your jaw by your ear and traveling across to it’s partner by your right ear. She folds the rag and returns to the area around your mouth and chin. Her press is firm and the scraggly and gritty old fabric scrapes your skin slightly but the minute pain grounds you. You think that you might float away without it because the way her eyes smolder so close to yours threatens to burn you to ashes. Her tiny breathes on your face could blow you away into a harmless cloud to settle in a million places on the floor.

But your body doesn’t incinerate. You stay completely still because you remember the last time you were in this position and you promised it would never happen again. you're halfway expecting her to utter that that devastating word you heard all those years ago when she finished wiping you up but something in her small smile tells you she would never.

She finishes wiping your lips one last time and lingers on your top lip. You know what she wants and you see her eyes flicker to yours for permission.

“Is it ok-“

“Yes, cupcake.” You whisper. She nods solemnly like you’ve entrusted her with some grave secret and your chest warms fondly.

This silly girl.

She takes her thumb and gingerly lifts your top lip to expose your teeth. You know what she sees. Your fangs haven’t retracted yet from your meal and they likely won’t for a while without some effort on your part because you’re still quite thirsty.

For some reason you feel calm. Even though you found her solemn nod to be slightly dramatic you also find that it comforted you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

This is Laura. You needed to show yourself to her because that was the deal. That was the promise. And you knew she would take you as you are.

“Cool.” She says, and her serious face breaks into a goofy smile. She drops her hands and you’re slightly disappointed the moment is over but you can’t help but break into a smirk of your own.

There’s strength, you find, in baring yourself before Laura. And you’ve been so weak for so long but right now you feel like you could lift a car over your head despite the foul-smelling garlic around your neck. You think that maybe you would lay out every part of yourself for her to see if you could. You would dismantle yourself under a microscope and invite her to study you. Examine every dark part of your being, let her bring every grisly secret out into the light if it made you feel like this.

“’Cool’? Are you sure you got a good look at them, cupcake? My fangs certainly elicit some remarkable reactions from you humans, but usually it’s something along the lines of absolute terror accompanied by fear induced bladder evacuation. Never has someone said ‘cool’ and grinned ear to ear like a kid in a candy store.”

Her smile quickly turns into a pout, but you can see she’s fighting to keep a smile off her lips.

“You think you’re so big and bad and scary but I'm so sorry if some super pointy teeth don’t make me pee my pants. And would you please stop calling me a child? I’m 25 years old for gosh sake. That’s like…a whole quarter century!” She practically stomps her foot on the floor to emphasize her point but really it just goes to prove yours. You raise a brow at this but stay quiet, content to let her rant as long as she wants.

“Ok I know you’re like over three hundred years old so twenty-five years sounds pathetic to you but by normal human standards I’m a full adult lady.”

Your smile fades from your face. She probably doesn’t realize how her word choice reminded you of how you broke her and then left her, but you need her to know.

“Laura.” You say quietly but firmly. You need her to understand.

She picks up on the urgency of your tone and looks at you curiously.

You wait a beat and search her face because you need to be certain you have her full attention. Her eyes bore into yours and you draw on your newly found strength.

“You are not pathetic.” You say slowly and precisely, making sure that your eyes never leave hers.

She blinks and you can see she’s made the connection. You know she hears the apology in your words. But you want her to hear the promise too. You want her to know the deal this time around.

You see her.

And you will stay if it kills you.

Her face is unreadable. Her eyelids flutter and you think you see a flicker of something, but it’s gone before you can name it. She takes a deep breath and sets her shoulders. Her eyes leave yours for a moment and bounce across the ceiling before returning to yours. They’re narrowed slightly and her brow furrows. Her lips purse and you think maybe she’s trying to convince herself of something.

“I know I’m not.” She says quietly. She bites the inside of her cheek as she looks at you and your heart squeezes.

You did this. You planted this seed in her mind. The guilt threatens to crumble your resolve, but you don’t let it. Because you made a promise and you are too weak to break it.

You need her to know. You decide you will spend whatever time you have with her doing whatever you can to convince her. Maybe if you showed her all the truly pathetic and cowardly parts of yourself she’ll see she is nothing like you. Maybe then she’ll see what true inadequacy is and she’ll know she is quite the opposite. You think you’ve got plenty of shit to show her after decades of depravity; it’s only a matter of time before she sees it.

The silence between you is broken by the crash of a door being opened roughly. You swivel your head around at the interruption and recognize the frazzled ginger in a hazmat suit walking into the room. Their head is bowed as they look down at an old dusty book in their hands, making their way towards the two of you.

“Hey, L so I’ve been reading some of these books, and I found something that talks about these talisman’s-“

They cut themself off and their eyes widen as they had just landed on you and they were not clearly taking your un-taped, slightly bloody clothes, and clearly non-sleeping form very well.

“Oh my god what did you do. Laura- oh my god did Dracula bite you why she is covered in blood??”

The ginger frantically pulls Laura’s collar out of the way and searches a very annoyed Laura for bite marks. You chuckle at Laura’s irritation, but the sound makes the ginger snap their head towards you.

“What are you laughing at? You were kidnapped and tied up by a couple of college grads.” The smirk on your face gives way and you bare your fangs at the ginger, hissing slightly.

They jump back and their eyes widen slightly. The sight is expected but then your eyes find Laura and she’s shaking her and rolling her eyes.

“Carm, give it a rest. And Laf, calm down everything’s fine I just gave her a rabbit cause she was like starving. She wont hurt us, okay? I promise. She’s just being a jerk with the hissing thing.”

“Laura you don’t even know her. She’s a vampire! Hurting people is like her job.”

Laura huffs in frustration and her eyes flicker to yours quickly before turning back to the ginger.

“Laf please. I told you. She’s not like that. And I do know her, we’re uh.. she’s…she’s my uh… my friend.”

She’s purposely avoiding your gaze now and even through your breath hitched at the word friend you swallow it and force yourself to act unaffected.

“Yeah, Red. We’re besties.” You say perfectly innocently. The gingers eyes narrow at you. But then they let out a sigh. The ginger rubs the back of their neck and looks sheepishly at Laura.

“Ok L. I mean I trust you. Plus, I mean I guess it would be kind of species-ist of me to assume all vampires are bad.”

“Thank you! So can we untie her now?” Laura asks.

Laf nods and pulls out an alarmingly long knife from their boot and before you can question why they’re carrying around a machete in a library, the ropes fall to the ground and the garlic is removed from your neck.

You breath in a deep breath as you feel your strength return to you. You stretch your arms and crack your neck. The ginger is looking at you like you’re a caged animal at the zoo and Laura just gives you a small apologetic smile which you return with a smirk.

And then suddenly the door bangs open loudly again and you’re wondering when in the last century people had started entering rooms like an ex-lover trying to stop a wedding.

“Hey Laura so we think the library got mad moved the vending machine because we can’t find it and there’s creeping writing in chocolate on the wall that says “get your own cookies” did you-“

The tall ginger girl stops talking and screeches to a halt when they see you and a second later someone rams into her backside where she had been blocking the door. You see something go flying and splat onto the floor and the two humans fall forward onto the ground with a thump in a tangle of limbs. You realize it was cupcakes that went flying and they were now splattered on the floor around the mess of limbs, icing smearing on the carpet. The tall ginger finally untangles herself from the other person and you notice it’s another, curly-haired ginger. Who are these people barging into the library trying to talk to Laura, and why are they all gingers? Was it a coincidence? Does Laura only befriend people with red hair? You furrow your brows and look at your raven locks that hang around your face in confusion. You look up to see Laura looking at you with soft eyes and a twitching mouth. She’s amused and you know she knows what you’re thinking and it takes everything in you not to let the giggle escape that bubbling up you throat.

You do not giggle.

You try to glare menacingly at her but she just moves closer to you and her hand comes up to take a lock of your hair between her fingers. She twirls is delicately for a moment and her twitching mouth gives way slightly and you see a corner curve up. You look into crinkling honey eyes and your chest blooms with warmth.

You’re interrupted when the gingers start yelling over each other.

“Oh my god Laura she’s free get the garlic-“

“Laura, dear I’m so sorry about the cupcakes-“

“-why is she covered in blood L did she bite-“

“Laura you got blood all over this antique carpet! I’ll never get it ou-“

You sigh and rest your head in your hands as Laura runs over to try and restrain the amazon and Curly Sue scrambles to your feet scrubbing at the blood stains.

You lift your head taking a deep breath, and it drags all the way down to your toes. You sit back in your chair and watch Laura argue with her friends. It was a shit show and the tall one kept breaking to skirt around Laura but the tiny girl was quick and would corral her back, putting her body between you and the giant ginger.

The door bangs open again and a tall, overly muscled frat boy walks in.

“Woah hey hotties shouldn’t fight- OH MY GOD LAURA THE VAMPIRE’S LOOSE.”

And you think, my god, what have I gotten myself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol the title of this chapter. I'm a sucker for a good rhyme what can I say. 
> 
> LOL I thought this chapter was decently funny. I feel like I'm better at writing darker stuff but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out. Maybe you thought is was not funny at all and that's cool too. I laughed at myself while writing so I had fun regardless ha.
> 
> I know I keep saying plot moving chapters are coming but I SWEAR the next chapter will explain A LOT. 
> 
> And LOL the scooby gang. Love these noobs. 
> 
> This chapter I probably identify more with Laura. Man, when she said "I'm know I'm not" my heart broke. I wanted to shout, "Laura you're amazing sweetie!"
> 
> Anyway. I did get a bit explicit there with Carm for a sec. Don't know where that filthy dialogue came from but I went with it.
> 
> *****Just so everyone knows all of Carm's sexual adventures/escapades were consensual and with adults! In my story, they knew what Carm was and made an informed choice about their sexual decisions with her. Carm here is trying to scare Laura so she exaggerates a bit, but in later chapters I will reveal a bit more detail to clarify that INFORMED CONSENT WAS GIVEN.  
> INFORMED CONSENT IS ALWAYS REQUIRED FOR ANY SEXUAL ACTS. If any part of my story makes you feel like consent was not given or is dubious comment and let me know! I will fix it. I will not be mad. Getting it right is more important than my feelings or ego about this work.*****


	6. Warmth and Vanilla and Earth and Laura.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanationsss and plot
> 
> The scooby gang being annoying
> 
> Carm is a cute grumpy vamp
> 
> Carm and Laura are goals
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So I just want to say especially for any of my fellow Americans here as well as all of you around the world today is a great day!  
> This election is a win for so many people. For the LGBTQ community, for african-americans, for south asian-americans, for women, for the climate and everything in between!
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a mix between humor and some SERIOUS feels along with some plot.
> 
> Get your tissues ready! I cried when I wrote the end no joke. 
> 
> 6k comin your way!
> 
> **no warnings. just get ready to catch those feelins!***

* * *

Please don't tell me I'm too far gone  
I can't go on if I ain't living in your arms  
Please don't tell me I'm too far gone

Set me free

-Bradley Cooper, "Too Far Gone"

* * *

It takes a while but Laura finally convinces the three gingers and the puppy boy that you won’t kill them.

The curly headed one really just seems more worried that you’ll make a mess than murder of maim one of her friends. Her nervous energy irritates you but you find it satisfying to push her buttons and you take every opportunity to scrape your muddy boots on the carpet when you’re around her. She just narrows her eyes at you with a surprisingly menacing glare and scrubs the carpet with extra fervor.

The frat boy actually seems pretty okay with the situation, and his easy trust in and fierce loyalty to Laura is quite stunning to you. He seems like he’s got more empty space than brain in his head but he’s so earnest that you can’t help but think he makes a good friend for Laura.

You scoff at yourself. You’re hopeless. Laura’s got you liking an oversized golden retriever of a boy-man. You shake your head at yourself and decide to unpack that later because the tall one really grates your nerves.

She’s constantly touching the small girl. Brushing a hand over Laura’s, squeezing her shoulder, placing a lingering hand on her back as she passes by. You gut flares every time and you think about ripping that hand off her arm multiple times. But you think it might upset Laura who for some unknown reason seems to genuinely like this Danny chick, so you refrain from dismembering her. It doesn’t stop you from grumbling and audibly scoffing when it happens though, which always seems to earn you a warning glare from the small girl.

There are times when your grumbles give way to a smug smirk and a chuckle which is also met with a warning glare from the blonde. Although, those looks she gives you are usually accompanied by a fond eye roll which makes your smirk widen and your chest feel warm. It’s just that the Giant doesn’t seem to think Laura can take care of herself. She’s constantly trying to protect her from everything and considering the very adamant rants you’ve received about “not being a child” and being a “very capable adult lady” you know it drives Laura up the wall. She deflects the tall ginger’s unwelcome concerns with grace however, and as annoyed as you are that the amazon doesn’t seem to respect the small girl’s autonomy you can’t help but admire the blonde’s kindness. That is, after all, why you’re sitting there in the library and not on that beach wallowing in the dark.

The thought reminds you that you have yet to receive an explanation for the recent turn of events as Laura had been occupied with feeding you and then trying to get the gang of imbeciles to agree on keeping you untied which turned out to be like trying to herd cats in the rain.

It had been almost an hour of arguing and heated discussion, most of which you had ignored in favor of zoning out with one of the many books in the room or simply watching Laura but you felt like it was time you got some answers.

“Hey cupcake.” You say, raising your voice just loud enough to be heard over the din of indignant gingers and one beer obsessed boy-man but you keep your tone soft because you want Laura to know you’re not upset with her.

Her head swivels and she looks at you from across the room while the rest of the idiots continue arguing amongst themselves and you crook a finger at her and pat the seat next to you on the couch.  
“I think it’s time you tell what the hell is going on.”

She smiles and gets up from her seat and the rest of the gang don’t appear to notice her absence.

She sits down next to you, far enough that you’re not touching but close enough you can feel her warmth and smell her perfume. She slumps down into the sofa with a huff and slides down slightly. Her hair is bunched up above her head and her arms are splayed out beside her. She runs a hand through her dirty blonde strands and lets her hand fall back to the couch with a heavy sigh. She looks over to you and you purse your lips to keep from smiling at how adorable a tired Laura is.

“Right so sorry about…all this. Um, so I told you the library kind ‘apparates’ places?” You nod.

“Even though I’m pretty sure you made up the word ‘apparate’ I think I can infer the meaning.”

Her eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot to her hairline.

“Oh my gosh you’ve never read Harry Potter have you?!?”

“Who’s Harry Potter? Is he an English scholar?

“NO! Oh my gosh it’s this series of books about this boy who’s finds out he’s a wizard and there’s this guy with no nose that’s hates him and there’s this girl Hermione who’s like my idol and-“  
And then she’s going on and on about how this girl Hermione and how she’s one of literatures great heroines and Harry would be a useless dish rag without her but her face flushes and her heart speeds up slightly when she says ‘Hermione’ and you give her a dirty smirk and cut her off.

“Looks like somebody’s got a crush on Hermione?”

She stops and looks at you, eyes wide as saucers. Her face only darkens and even though your fangs have retracted back into your gums, they ache again as you see the blood so close to the surface. You’re not thirsty, however. But you can’t help thinking what a wonderous gift it is, that whoever created the universe decided to make humans flush so beautifully when embarrassed.

“Pffft no. Why would you think that? I mean an intellectual crush, sure. She’s like brilliant and –“

“Cupcake, you forget that I can hear your heart racing and your face is the color of a tomato.”

Her head falls back against the sofa in defeat.

“Yeah okay. Maybe I do but honestly, Carm, it’s hard not to I mean have you seen Emma Watson-“

You realize you asked her over here for a reason so you smugly file away the fact that your instincts were correct about her sexual inclinations and try to reel her in before she rambles herself all the way into next week.

“Creampuff. Please. We got off track. Can you please tell me what happened? We apparated?”

She looks at you and gives you that small smile that makes your chest warm and sits up.

“Right so we apparated. That’s what the shaking and flash of light was. That’s how it always happens. And I woke up on the floor and you were there next to me and I couldn’t wake you up.” She heaves a sigh and looks a little flustered at the memory. “I thought you might be dead and it’s not like I could check your pulse and you weren’t breathing but I knew you don’t have to breathe.” She flicks her eyes to you and they’re filled with something you don’t recognize but looks close to amusement. “So I, uh.. well you looked uncomfortable on the ground so I lifted you on the couch-“

“You lifted me on the couch? You got muscles hidden away I can’t see, creampuff?” You interrupt her. The girl is tiny and the image of her trying to wrangle your limp body onto the couch is both extremely amusing and a little disconcerting.

“Hey, I’m stronger than I look. Sometimes things just need a little- “

“-elbow grease.” you say with her and you continue when she stops and looks at you surprised.

“Yeah I know you said that. I swear I will never doubt your freakish and physics defying strength again. Now please tell me how I ended up tied to a chair with an army of gingers trying to kill me.”  
She rolls her eyes at you and your chest blooms with warmth.

“If you would stop interrupting me I’ll tell you.” she says and you feel a smile tug at your lips. You stay silent and she continues.

“So yeah I didn’t know if you were dead, so I tried shaking you awake but you just stayed dead looking.” She starts fidgeting and scratches the back of her neck uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze.  
“I uh, sat on the couch and put your head- well you know- your neck looked uncomfortable so I put your head on my lap for a pillow and all of a sudden you took this deep breath so I was like, okay, I guess she’s fine and thinks my lap is really comfortable.” Her eyes find yours and they’re a little smug but her face is tinged pink. Your face would probably be beet red if it were physically possible, but you silently thank the universe it isn’t and just roll your eyes and nod your head for her to continue.

“And that’s when Laf found us. We had apparently apparated back to Silas- that’s where Laf and everyone have been while I’ve been apparating around the world. So, when Laf noticed the library had returned to its spot on campus they rushed inside to see if I was here. They freaked out when I told them about you and ran to get everyone else because they thought you had me hypnotized or something.”

“That’s a myth you know. Vampires can’t actually hypnotize people.”

She looks at you and shrugs.

“Yeah well Laf has watched too many bad vampire movies and Danny was freaking out because she thought I was being reckless.”

You scoff and she gives you that look again. She smiles at you and continues.

“I know you don’t like her, but you don’t have to be so obvious about it, Carm.” She’s scolding you but her tone is light and teasing. “I know she’s overbearing, and she doesn’t treat me like an adult but it’s only because she cares about me. And I care about her enough to see that.”

You furrow your brow as you consider this. You get that the red giant might care about Laura but that wasn’t an excuse to treat her like a toddler. Laura of all people did not need anyone to hold her hand.  
You shake your head. “Nope. Still don’t like her.”

She sighs and shakes her head too. “Ok whatever. So anyway, everyone ganged up on me and eventually they decided to overrule me and make sure that when you woke up you couldn’t hurt anyone. I’m really sorry. I feel terrible, but Kirsch literally picked me up and held me down while they tied you up. There was nothing I could do.”

She looks at you with her big brown doe eyes and you see the sincere apology there. You’re really not mad in the slightest. You understand where they’re coming from.  
“Cutie, I’m not mad. I mean, I am a threat to them. I’m a vampire. They are right to fear me. I’m dangerous.”

Her brow furrows again and her determined eyes burn into yours.

“No. How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not like that.”

You roll your eyes. This stubborn girl.

“Sweetheart, how many gruesome stories about my days prowling around brutally murdering innocent girls do I have to tell you before it sinks in? I’m a vampire. I’m dangerous. Violence is what I am. I was born by it and I live by it. This isn’t a revelation for me.”

You’re speaking softly because right now you feel weak again. You’re telling her things you’ve known about yourself for over three centuries but for some reason as you say the words on this couch, staring into her burning eyes you’re having difficulty getting the words past your lips.

“Yes, that’s a part of you but there’s other parts too. Good parts. And as hard as you try you can’t hide those. Not from me.”

You stare at her and your heart squeezes. Your chest feels tight.

“But-…what if…” You close your eyes and try to draw a breath into your lungs but you can’t quite get the air past your throat. Your question is burning in your chest but it keeps catching in your throat because you don’t know if you can handle her answer.

You open your eyes and find hers. They’re smoldering and all of a sudden your hand is reaching out slowly and your hand is about to brush her cheek where she’s still blushing lightly because you want see if you can feel the warmth there. When you realize what you’re doing you stop and start to pull back because you and her have this boundary and you know you’re so much stronger than her especially considering your past so you can’t be the one to take the initiative. You would never take advantage of your power of her like that.

But before you can retract your hand you feel her small hand wrap around yours and she brings your joined hands down to her lap, intertwining your fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You think you might burn to ash at her warmth.

“What if what?” She says quietly. She stares at you without pity or judgement. She’s open and her eyes are so transparent you think if it weren’t for the flames burning brightly in her irises there that you could see into her soul.

“What if there’s too much bad in me, and it swallows up the good.” You swallow nervously but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton. But you made a promise to try so you force the words past your teeth.

“What if…what if I’m too far gone?”

You feel her thumb graze your palm and she rubs the pad of it back and forth, tracing the wrinkles there.

“No one’s keeping score, Carm. What matters is what you make from what you are at this moment. You’re not destined for anything. You’re past is a part of you but you have free will. You can do anything you want. And you have me now. And I think you’re pretty great. And I even know you’re an extremely messy and loud eater, so it can’t get much worse than that.”

She’s smiling at you and you just stare at her like the imbecile you are because you’re trying so hard to let her words sink into your brain. But you’re stuck on one thing she said.

You have me now.

The words don’t make sense in that order, not the way she stressed each word. You’d heard it many times, but with a vastly different meaning. They were the words behind the old soldier’s resigned plea to spare his platoon. They’re the reflection of the words you’d said many times in your head as you had finally cornered your prey and were ready to pounce- “I’ve got you now”. You’d say it out loud to your prey and revel in the way you could see the realization in wide eyes and the fear and dread that would fill the air. You understood it as a sign of defeat. A surrender to something more powerful. You had them in that your power allowed you to possess them completely. You owned their fate and those words signified that.

But the way she said it was different. Like she was offering herself to you for an equal partnership. You had her and by implication she had you. She was saying you are in this together- whatever “this” may entail.

You look down at your joined hands and think you might really like it if she belonged to you. Because you realize you had belonged to her for quite a while now.

You think you might just sit on that couch with her slightly callused thumb tickling patterns on your palm for the rest of eternity but of course you’re interrupted by a flying pad of post-it notes that hits you with a smack in the side of the head.

You turn and your irritation causes your fangs to slide out of your gums and you throw a hiss across the room. Four sets of wide eyes stare back at you and the ginger scientist quickly starts looking more like a fire hydrant by the second.

“Uh… sorry I didn’t mean to hit you it’s just we kept calling for Laura, but she didn’t hear and we need her to help us figure out what to do.” The short haired ginger finishes with a sheepish smile and flicks her eyes to Laura.

“Me and the cupcake were just having a serious conversation while you idiots were yelling nonsense at each other. Sorry we didn’t immediately drop everything when you decided to grow up and act like adults.” You spit back. You’re extremely irritated because you know if Laura goes back to talking with her friends she’ll get up and you’ll have to let go of her hand. You don’t remember how you were able to exist before having not ever felt her thumb trace wandering lines on your palm and you really don’t want to let go. You’re worried it’s a one time thing and you want to savor it while it lasts.

She doesn’t let go though.

Her thumb just keeps drawing steady circles on your palm.

“Ignore Carm. She’s just grumpy because I gave her crap for not having seen Harry Potter.”

They all start talking at once.

“Dude! You totally should it’s got some real hotties-“

“Jeez Drusilla do you live under a rock-“

“Oh dear that’s such a shame-“

“Laura’s got a HUGE crush on-“

“Enough!”

Laura interrupts them and you see the a light blush on her cheeks darken slightly and you think you really need to ask her more about this crush because if it makes her blush like this every time you can’t imagine what she’d look like if you really leaned in and teased her about it.

“Just-“she sighs. “Never mind. What do you guys need?”

The idiots exchange glances and the short haired one looks at you wearily. Laura notices and speaks up again.

“It’s fine. I told you she won’t hurt us.”

You glance over at her but she’s avoiding your gaze, so you look back at the children across the room.

“Okay well I actually came here to tell you about some stuff I was reading about in one of the books that dropped on my head the other day.”

You’re slightly confused but decide to keep your mouth shut and ask Laura questions later when you’re alone.

“It was talking about all these old things called talismans that are supposedly scattered around the world and how they could come together and defeat some great evil. It was kind of hard to understand and there was all this dramatic imagery about a big light but the point is it may tell us about why the library has been dragging you all over the world for the past five years.”

You remember Laura saying something about the last five years being hard, but had she really been alone in this library for five years? You look over at her and she’s still avoiding your gaze, but you see her lips purse and her shoulders are tense. You file that away as another question to raise later.

Her thumb is still rubbing back and forth across your palm and you bring up your own thumb and lightly trace it back and forth on the back of hers. She looks over at you in surprise and you see gratitude in her eyes before she turns back to the group.

“Well then spill. What did you figure out?” Her voice is calm and measured and you know she’s trying to keep in her feelings.

“Well that’s the thing. The book supposedly has the locations of the talismans, but that part is in some language I’ve never seen. I even got Betty to look at it. She’s majored in linguistics, remember? She said it looks ancient Mesopotamian but couldn’t translate it.”

You’re staring at your hand in Laura’s and you feel her take a deep breath beside you.

“What’s that got to do with the library?”

“Well I think that maybe the library might be trying to get us to find the talismans. It dropped the book on my head and I’m the only one who can read it since it’s in German and I’m the only one who took German for our language requirement at Silas.”

“Ich spreche Deutsch, dummkopf.” You say.

The ginger narrows their eyes at you.

“You were asleep. Anyway. I thought maybe the places it was taking you were where the talismans are. And it wants us to find them.”

“But why didn’t the library just zap me back to Silas earlier so you could have figured this out quicker instead of dragging me around against my will for five years with no explanation?”

You can tell Laura’s got a tenuous hold on her temper, so you squeeze her hand slightly. Her shoulders released a small amount of tension.

“I don’t know Laur, I never said it was smart.”

You hear a loud groaning noise coming from the ceiling that sounds extremely unhappy.

The ginger looks up at the ceiling and yells in frustration.

“Sorry! I mean she’s not wrong!”

There’s another light grumble but it’s silent after that and the six of you look at each other. Well, you’re still looking at Laura mostly.

“Okay well if we find the talismans- then what?

“I don’t know. I mean the language is pretty dramatic in the book. It’s kind of end-of-times-esque with a bright light and this final judgment and some kind of giant fish but you know a lot of old books are over dramatic with the symbolism so who knows.”

Laura shifts in her seat and runs the hand that’s not in yours through her hair which is growing messier by the minute.

“Well until we figure out why the library wants us to find these talismans, we shouldn’t do anything else. I mean who’s to say the library doesn’t want us to do something bad with them? We shouldn’t jump into some epic battle without knowing all the facts first.”

She heaves a sigh and looks at her friends who just look back at her. You’re surprised at how much these people trust Laura, how much they look to her for leadership. You look back at the blonde and you can see leadership comes natural for her. Her shoulders are square, and her voice has a certainty that’s comforting. Her eyes dart across the ceiling as she thinks, and you can tell she takes their trust seriously. She wants to get it right for them.

“But it’s midnight and I’m exhausted and you all must be too. Why don’t we hit the sack and reconvene in the morning? We’ll be fresher and we can set out trying to find out anything we can about these talismans.”

The group nods and they begin to gather their belongings and clean up the room. The science nerd comes over hesitantly, eyes flicking nervously over to you.

“Uh, Laura. Do you maybe wanna come crash at my place?”

Laura sits up and she’s keeping her eyes anywhere but yours.

“Uh thanks Laf but I’m fine here.”

Laf looks at her with worried eyes and her eyes flick to you once more and the down to where your hands are still joined. You shift in your seat so that you’re slightly forward and in front of Laura. You don’t like the way you feel judgment rolling off the ginger and you know exactly what they’re thinking.

“Sure L. I know you’re fine but I know you haven’t slept in a real bed in five years and since Dracula’s awake now I thought you might want to.”

You search the blonde’s face and she’s still avoiding your gaze but her face is suspiciously blank. She gives the ginger a tight smile.

“Thanks Laf I appreciate it. But I’m good. I’ve gotten used to it here, ya know. And all my stuff is here and-“ You see her look down at your hands for a moment, her face is still unreadable.  
“yeah no don’t worry about it I’m good here.” Her face is pink, but you don’t know if she’s still blushing from earlier or if it’s new.

“Yeah okay sure L. I’ll uh…I’ll see you in the morning then, yeah?”

Laura nods and the ginger gives a crooked salute before following the everyone out, and then you’re alone with the blonde.

You sit there for a minute in silence as your thumbs continue to brush over each other. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s peaceful. But you can tell her mind is running a thousand miles an hour and the weight of it is making her shoulders sag slightly.

You sniff the air dramatically, like you smell something odd.

“Cupcake do you smell something burning?” you ask seriously.

She looks at you in confusion and sniffs the air.

“Um no I don’t smell anything.”

“Oh well it must be coming from you. You’re thinking so hard you must be overheating your brain in there. Careful and it’ll melt on you and then you’ll be like the frat boy with goo for brains.”

She rolls her eyes in the back of her head dramatically and slumps in her seat. Her free hand comes up to smack her forehead.

“Oh my god Carm you’re terrible.” She chuckles. She lowers her hand and looks at you and you think you need to figure out how to be funnier if telling her lame jokes would make her look at you like that. You silently curse yourself because you wish you’d paid more attention to human humor over the past few decades because you’re joke repertoire is severely limited.

You take her hand and turn it over, palm up and start lightly tracing lines from her wrist to the tips of her fingers. Her fingers twitch slightly when you go over a ticklish spot.

“What are you thinking about so hard you’re stinking up the room with fumes?” you ask.

You want her to know she doesn’t have to tell you so you keep your tone light. But you think she can understand that you really do want to know if she’s willing to share.

She takes a deep breath.

“I’m just tired. And confused. And frustrated.”

You hum in understanding and continue to trace her hand. You stay silent and give her space to continue or not.

“It’s just-. It’s just that I’ve spent the last five years in this library, working day and night to try and figure out what’s going on. And Laf and everyone kept trying to tell me there was nothing to figure out and to just give up but I knew there was something going on. I knew it was random.”

You hum again and begin tracing the lines on her palm like she did to you.

“And I’m like vindicated right? Because I was right. I was right the whole time.”

She lets her head fall to the side resting on her shoulder and you lean back so that your next to her. You can feel the warm puffs of her breath on your arm. Your skin erupts in goosebumps and the hairs on your arm stand at attention and you pray she doesn’t notice.

“I was right. But it’s like-“ She pauses. Her voice is getting thick and even though her face is still neutral you can tell it’s hard for her to talk about this. You stay silent because you know she’s more than strong enough. She’s so much stronger than you and you wish she knew it.

“It’s like I spent all this time grinding away, researching and cataloging and brainstorming until my brain fried and I had nothing. For five years. And then the library just decides that it’s had enough of watching me fail over and over so its zaps me back and Laf just walks in after five years of trying to get me to give up and just has the one book we needed drop on their head.”

She lets out a gush of air and she leans into the couch a bit more, causing her to shift closer to you.

You let the silence fill the air because you want to make sure she’s done before you say anything. You’re still drawing lines across her hand and after a minute or so you decide it’s safe to speak.

“It’s not fair is it?” You say softly.

There’s a beat and you see her bite a shaky lip and you think she may break the skin with the force.

“No, it’s not.” She says just as softly. You think you hear a shade of relief in her voice, but it’s mostly colored with pain. You recognize that pain. You know it so well you think you might have invented it.

Regret. Loneliness. Sadness.

You remember the look on her face when you called her pathetic, and the way her voice swelled and cracked when she told you she wakes up every day thinking just that. You remember when you apologized and she told you she knows she’s not through quivering lips.

But you also remember how she held that damn rabbit carcass for you to drink. And how she wiped your mouth so gently afterwards even though you were being purposefully annoying. You remember that she was worried about you getting a crick in your neck before you had woken up here. And you remember how she looked you dead in the eye after you’d told her about all those innocent girls and told you that you didn’t scare her. How she came to find you on the beach and offered you her hand to pull you out of the abyss. You remember how she stood fearless and strong in that clearing the first time you saw her and smiled and flipped your world upside down and inside out.

You need her to see what you see.

“Well if I recall correctly, someone really wise once said that what matters is what you make from what you are in this moment.” She smiles but keeps her eyes trained where your fingers dance across her palm.

“And cupcake, the universe is huge. It’s arbitrary and uncaring. It certainly isn’t fair. You could get hit by a meteor one day or mauled by a vampire the next and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

She scoffs. “Carm if this is your cheering up speech it needs a little work.” You chuckle and your heart squeezes.

This girl.

Doesn’t she know how special she is?

“Well I was evil for the better part of three centuries so give me a break.” You say lightly and her smile stretches ear to ear. She’s still looking intently at your hands but nonetheless her smile breaks your heart and fixes it at the same time.

“Cupcake, in my 340 years on this Earth I have never ever met somebody as bullheaded as you.”

You feel a pinch on the meaty part of your thumb.

“Hey, hey let me finish.” You hear a tiny giggle and her smile is faded a bit but it still lingers.

“Look you’re struggling. And uncertain and you have a right to be. But you have something that I’ve never had. You have something in you that demands better. That cares. I’ve never had that. I’m a coward. I accept what is given to me because I know I’m not strong enough to have anything better. I take the easier route because that’s what the weak do. There’s no other choice for me because that’s what I am. But you. You have something inside that extremely thick skull-” another pinch,”-that says something better is on the horizon and you have the strength to go get it. For yourself and for your friends and for people you don’t even know. Trust me, don’t think for a second that my lifetime of apathy and mediocrity even remotely compares to the way you try.”

You squeeze her hand because you want to see those honey brown irises when you say this. She looks up and you feel like Icarus flying too close to the sun, but you don’t care that you might burn up because she’s so beautiful the way the flames flicker in her eyes you know it’s worth it.

So you tell her.

“and it is so beautiful. The way you try.”

Her eyes are glistening, and you’re reminded of when she turned in her desk chair and you saw wet cinnamon eyelashes and the same burning irises but this time you’re staying and you surrender to the heat.

She’s searching your face and you hope she can see your sincerity when the hand in yours retracts. You feel a wave of fear at the loss, but it’s quickly gone when you see her hand is slowly reaching up for your cheek. Her eyes are gauging your reaction and you lean in the last millimeter to feel her hand cup your face.

It’s rough in some places and butter soft in others and so, so warm. She lets her thumb glide softly across you skin until it shifts and runs along your browbone.

“You’re beautiful, too, you know.” She says and you see her eyes crinkle slightly and her mouth twitch.

You take a breath to correct her because good god, this girl is so damn stubborn and won’t listen to you and you’re trying to get her to understand how she’s so much stronger than you but she silences you with a fierce glare.

“You don’t think so, I know. You think the way you’ve survived is weakness.” She pauses and her thumb comes in between your brows to softly smooth out the furrow that’s emerged there at your frustration. Her fingers glide up to your hair and her fingers run through it slowly, pulling it back to reveal more of your face.

“But it’s not. It takes strength. To think you have no hope and still choose to go on.”

Her eyes are smoldering coals and she’s smiling softly at you and you think you’re breaking apart. You’re angry because she doesn’t understand and frustrated because her words don’t make sense but something inside of you clicks and splinters. You’re shaking and you look at her desperately because you’re falling and you know you’ll never stop falling unless she catches you soon.

She tugs on the back of your neck and your forehead lands in the crook of her neck and you’re safe. You’re blissfully still and solidly anchored to the earth and you think maybe you’ve never felt so still in your life. You can smell her scent and hear her heart beating loudly but it’s steady and so, so strong and you wonder if there’s any part of this girl that isn’t strong.

She’s running her fingers through you hair and you shift so your lips are touching her pulse point so you can feel every beat on your lips reverberate through your head because you want to drown yourself in the sound.

Eventually you stop shaking and you feel your body getting heavy. You’re drifting off and the last thing you remember is feeling yourself being shifted horizontally and your lips are secured safely against her pulse and you you’re head and body are cradled in warmth and vanilla and Earth and Laura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh mY GAwD amirite? I'm bawling. oh man will I ever recover from this one? not likely
> 
> Carm is a a SMITTEN KITTEN. so cute. 
> 
> and lol can we all agree Hermione is the REAL MVP Harry is USELESS. And who doesn't have a crush on her/Emma Watson (or maybe just an "intellectual one" lol side note did anyone else say this when they were younger and then later realize you were gay and think ooohhhh yeah no I had the hots for Hermione LOL cause I did)
> 
> And all that hand holding. WHEW is it hot in here?? Jeez these two are gonna make me spontaneously combust with their chemistry
> 
> If you're thinking this sounds exactly like the plot of S3 you would be right! Don't fret! This is not a S3 rehash. Plot twists and turns are on the way! I don't think you'll see it coming but maybe you will y'all are pretty smart. :)
> 
> Ugh Carm is ME in this chapter. 
> 
> Y'all listen to Laura! Depression is hard and sometimes you feel like there's no hope and you feel so weak because you feel like you're failing at life. But it takes the most strength not to give up. If you woke up today, you're a winner and you're so freaking strong like Laura when she's wrangling palm fronds or hoisting a limp Camilla from the ground.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Until next time Creampuffs!


	7. Nancy Drew and an Extremely Expensive Bottle of Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is squad goals
> 
> Carm is SUPER broody.
> 
> Laura is an angel
> 
> Feelings. feelings everywhere as far as the eye can see
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I finished studying kidney function and wrote this! So, if you want to know about how to calculate Glomerular Filtration rate, I'm your gal!
> 
> Anyway, here's another 8.3k. I think this is the longest chapter yet, but it was a breeze to write. These characters are so compelling the story practically writes itself. It's a testament to the writers of Carmilla and Elise and Natasha's wonderful interpretations!
> 
> This chapter is sad, funny, and then sad again. and then sad some more. and then feeellls. Have fun!
> 
> Hmu in the comments I'll nerd rant on just about anything with you :)
> 
> ***some serious themes of depression, borderline suicidal thoughts, one little sexual innuendo, some graphic violence descriptions***

* * *

When I bow down to pray  
I try to make the worst seem better  
Lord, show me the way  
To cut through all his worn out leather  
I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away  
But baby, I just need one good one, good one  
Tell me that you'll be the good one, good one  
Baby, I just need one good one to stay

-Lady Gaga, "Million Reasons"

* * *

You don’t dream. You don’t dream of a single thing, but you feel that steady pulse on your lips all night. You don’t miss a single beat even in your unconsciousness.

You feel yourself rousing because someone is whispering in your ear.

“Carm. Hey Carm. You need to get up.”

You remember that you fell asleep in Laura’s arms and you’re slightly embarrassed how you felt apart last night but she’s so warm and the feeling of her body against yours is really amazing so you think you might not care.

Your eyes crack open and the light is blinding, so you bury your face back into her neck and nuzzle as deep as you can go. You try to tell her you just want five more minutes, but your brain isn’t really communicating properly with your mouth yet, so it comes out as an unintelligible mumble.

You feel her body shake with silent laughter and then you feel fingers comb through your hair coaxing your face back out into the light. You reluctantly lift your head and squint up at her. She’s so damn close and her breaths fan across your face and you can see how her eyes are not solid honey like you thought. They have little flecks of darker and lighter brown that radiate out from her pupil. Her hair is slightly muffed, and her eyes are a bit puffy from sleep, but you think- my god, she’s so beautiful.

She’s smiling at you and you feel a smile emerging on your own face, so you press your forehead into her shoulder to hide it.

“What do you want, creampuff and why are you waking me up at the ass crack of dawn?”

“First of all, it’s 9 am. And second of all, I really need to pee. So, unless you want me to pee on you then you might want to get a move on.”

Your smile widens.

“If it’s before noon, it’s the ass crack of dawn. But my sincerest apologies for inconveniencing you so.”

You plant an arm in the cushion beneath you and drag yourself up so you’re not laying on top of her anymore. You’re suddenly cold and you feel exposed. You run a hand though you hair and try to avoid her gaze. You miss her warmth and there’s tight feeling in your stomach because you don’t want her to leave. It’s getting harder to think about leaving her and frankly, it’s getting to be an addiction because you don’t think you could physically walk away from her. But you’re terrified she’ll come to her senses and leave you because you don’t think you would ever recover.

Suddenly you feel her fingers on your chin and she lightly tugs so that you’re forced to look at her.

“I’m coming back, Carm.” She says and you roll your eyes as if she’s being ridiculous, but you can’t help but feel a wave of relief despite yourself. She sees straight through your bullshit and it’s honestly pathetic. She gives you a quick peck on the cheek and skips away around the corner.

You hand comes up to touch where her lips chastely grazed your cheek. Your face is slightly warm, but you know it’s just lingering warmth from where your cheek was pressed against her all night.  
Your breath becomes a bit erratic and if you had a heart beat it would probably be stuttering in your chest. You feel unsettled, like you don’t exactly know how to sit or where to put your hands. You know she’s coming back, but your brain isn’t quite convinced.

You shake your head and rub your hand over your face, groaning in frustration at your idiocy. You’re reminded of how newborns cry when their mothers leave the room because they haven’t developed object permeance and they think their mother has just disappeared forever. That’s exactly how you feel and no matter how much you try, your brain just isn’t listening to you. You huff and stand up because you want to punch a wall or maybe eviscerate something because goddamnit you’re a centuries old creature of the night and you’re getting worked up over this girl like a damn baby in a game of peek-a-boo.

And then she’s back and wiping her damp hands on her jeans and you can breathe again.

“Hey, why are you standing in the middle of the room holding a- oh god is that my Tardis mug???”

You look down in your hand and you realize you’d picked up her mug in your anger ready to use it as a weapon to disembowel something. You’ve squeezed it so hard that it’s in pieces in your hand and cold, day-old cocoa is dripping through your hands onto the carpet.

“Oh, uh sorry. Um. I – I dropped it.”

You mentally face palm yourself at your feeble excuse but honestly it’s much less embarrassing then telling her you missed her in the two minutes she was gone and you almost went out to find a perfectly innocent bunny to eviscerate with a coffee mug.

“I’m sorry, Cupcake. I know it’s your favorite mug. I’ll get you another one.”

She walks over to you and delicately takes the shards from you hands and places them on the desk.

“Carm it’s fine it’s just a- “She whips around from her spot near the desk and looks at you in alarm.

You’re worried that she’s suddenly changed her mind and is about to yell at you, but she doesn’t.

“How’d you know it was my favorite? I never told you.”

“It’s the only one you drink from. Even when it’s dirty, you clean it instead of using another one.”

You’re unsure why this is such alarming news to her but for some reason she looks extremely confused that you know this. It doesn’t take a genius to pick up on her favorite mug. It’s extremely blue and large and gaudy it’s kind of hard to miss. It’s practically glued to her hand 24/7.

“Oh.” Is all she says. You look at her and wonder what’s going on in her head because you can practically hear her thinking from your spot across the room, but you’re interrupted by an unnecessarily loud bang.

“Yo L, we’re here and ready to rumble. I brought grape soda and Perry made cookies but if we wanna get wild Kirsch brought the latest batch of Pilsner.”

You heave a sigh and resign yourself to a long day of mind numbingly loud gingers and limited access to Laura.

“Yeah, I tasted that Pilsner and it tastes like horse piss.” The tall one says. She walks over to where Laura is standing and leans down to give the blonde a hug. Laura reaches up on her tip toes and wraps her arms around the giant’s neck. “Morning Laura.” She says softly and honestly, you’re reconsidering ripping her arms off her body again, but Laura’s eyes meet yours over the amazon’s shoulder before you can even make a sarcastic scoff. They’re narrowed and she flicks her eyes between you in the couch purposefully.

You scoff inwardly at the tiny girl ordering you around like a child, but you make your way to the couch anyway. You sit down with a huff and cross your arms over your chest.

The giant finally releases her hold on Laura and looks over at you smugly and you think- that’s it. Your fangs descend and you think maybe the ginger’s insides would look nice splattered in the ceiling but Laura steps in your field of vision, points an angry finger at you and gives you her best glare. She takes her two fingers and points them at her eyes and then towards you, indicating she’s watching you. You still want to rip the giant’s arms out of their sockets, but you roll your eyes.

This girl thinks she can stop you with just a look? She must be kidding.

Then she gives you that smug smirk and an eyebrow raises as if she knows what you’re thinking and her eyes are say, Yeah, I sure can. What are you gonna do about it? You can’t help but smile because she’s right and damnit if that doesn’t make mind-bogglingly furious and warm your chest at the same time.

You flash your fangs at her menacingly and she just rolls her eyes and flips her hand at you dismissively. Apparently satisfied that you won’t be covering the walls with the tall ginger’s blood for the time being, she turns to her friends and they start planning their research strategy.

You drum your fingers on your stomach as you watch them. They obviously have known each other for a long time. They finish each other’s sentences and bicker constantly. Even with the constant arguing, you admit that the group works surprisingly well together. They each have their own strengths that they bring to the group and they all relax seamlessly into their respective roles.

The curly haired one is supplying them with a constant stream of fresh snacks and will occasionally gather their research materials and organize them methodically but efficiently. Graphs and charts go in one neat stack and books are arranged neatly on the bookshelf by the desk with the spines are facing out so anyone can find what they’re looking for easily. The rest of the group largely ignores her, letting her flit around them without objection. But you see the way she can tell someone is done with something they’re looking at and it’s often snatched from right from their hand and quickly replaced with the exact book or chart they needed next. She always receives a smile in return, and you know they value her role. Meanwhile, Laura has been consuming cookies like a chain smoker smokes cigarettes and you wonder where exactly she stores it all in her tiny frame. You’re slightly worried she’s going to throw up from all the sugar. You frown as she eats a cookie the size of her face in 5 seconds flat and it’s replaced by another by Curly Sue before she’s done chewing.

The over-sized golden retriever spends most of his time making fun of the tall ginger and you remember Laura and the scientists talking about them being an item. As you watch, the frat boy looks at the ginger with wide puppy dog eyes and then make a mildly offensive, sexist remark towards the object of his attention seemingly unknowingly and you think he has a long way to go. You roll your eyes. This is one of the many reasons why you generally stuck to women, but you can’t help but like him as much as you hate to admit it. Even with his tone-deaf remarks about women, he contributes in his own way. When someone has an idea, he encourages them. It’s usually, “Wow dude you’re like a genius!” or “wow, I knew you were a hottie but you’re smart too!”. If someone expresses frustration or pessimism, he is always ready with a quip to bring the morale up in a split second. It’s usually, “Don’t give up now! If anyone can figure it out it’s us!” or “Pizza or death! Pizza or death!”. You’re not sure what in the hell the last one has to do with anything, but it always makes everyone chuckle, shake their heads and keep working so you figure it’s some inside joke.

The short ginger spends most of their time by the wall where they’ve begun taping up important information and writing notes and connections they’ve made. They are the go-to consultant for anything scientific or remotely technical. They seem to have a plethora of knowledge about alternate dimensions and the meta-physical and their input is always objective and unbiased. You see their eyes linger on the curly haired one often and they sometimes have private whispered conversations in between her cookie distributions. There’s a fondness there and you wonder whether the connection that obviously lies between them is more than friendship.

And then there’s the ginger giant. She’s never more than an arm’s length away from Laura. You know this because she can’t go a whole minute without finding some reason to touch her and you curse her for having such long arms. Laura doesn’t ever seem to be uncomfortable with it and sometimes returns the favor which makes your anger dissipate and you have to look away. Other than spitting back fierce insults in response to the frat boy’s poor excuse for flirting Big Red actually helps quite a bit. She’s got her nose buried in books and papers and she’s quite good at picking up on crucial details.  
Her and Laura work very well together, you note bitterly. Danny is adept with gathering the data and Laura is able to see the big picture. You watch her now as she bounces between talking to Laf about correlations and statistical probabilities and listening to Danny tell her about some reference to Italy she read an hour ago in a book. Her brow furrows and her eyes dart across the ceiling as she thinks. Then her face brightens, and she writes something on a post-it note and slaps it forcefully on the Laf’s wall. The sound startles Laf slightly, but they simply recover and read the post-it, nodding their head and returning to their silent perusal of the wall.

You watch them and you can’t help but think they’re a well-oiled machine. They’re a complete package and you think that Laura is lucky to have them. The thought makes you smile slightly before your smile fades and you realize you’ve been sitting here on the couch for an hour or two and Laura hasn’t looked up once. None have them have so much acknowledged your presence.  
You furrow your brow and look down at your hands which are resting palm up on your legs.

Laura already has a family. And you’re encroaching on that. Here you are like a love-sick puppy waiting eagerly for a simple glance from the girl and clinging to her like a child all night long after falling apart in her arms. You’re taking from her and she’s giving you herself so willingly, but you have nothing to offer her in return. You stare at your useless hands and you remember when she said, “you have me now” and you thought that meant you would be equals, but she has no need for you. You are not equals, and you remind yourself that you can never forget that.

You get up and stalk into the library stacks because it’s too hard to watch Laura with her family and feel so utterly useless. You find the philosophy section and grab a few titles at random and stuff them under your arm as you try to find somewhere you can read and don’t have to hear the sound of a family you can never belong to.

Eventually you find a small window in the cinderblock walls and you hop up onto the windowsill which is just big enough for you to curl up comfortably with the window at your side. Outside its sunny and you see a smattering of college aged kids playing frisbee on a well-manicured stretch of grass. You pick one of your books, place the others gently on the ground and try to lose yourself.

The book you’ve picked is one you’ve read many times but the world around you quickly fades away as you become engrossed. You had always found philosophy to be comforting. Over your lifetime you had bounced between a myriad of different views and perspectives. Between your dozen or so degrees in philosophy and thousands of nights spent thinking about your existence, you have essentially read about and were familiar with any world view humans have conjured up and wrote about and then some. You usually favored those that shaded pessimistic or nihilist. They made the most sense to you considering how your life and undead existence has played out. You had always found some solace in the idea that nothing means anything. Because you knew if there was a purpose for your life you had certainly squandered it. You often thought it would be an extremely cruel joke if the universe created you only for you to hate existing. Because you had hated it for a long time. You got your kicks where you could but at the end of the day when the hunt was over and when the blood had washed away you were always left with just yourself to account for and that was really quite depressing to say the least.

Your eyes lift from the page and you look out the window again. You watch the carefree children prance and shout and jump and laugh and you realize that you don’t know if you feel that way anymore. The thought startles you and you wonder when you stopped feeling like you had no purpose.

Then you hear a soft thud from the direction of the Scooby gang and after a moment of confusion you realize it’s the sound of Laura slapping another post-it note to the wall. You close your eyes and let your head fall back and rest on the wall behind you, thinking she’ll punch a hole right through the wall one of these days.

The image of Laura with wide eyes and mouth agape, looking at her arm elbow-deep in the wall, post-it note still clutched in her tiny fist makes you chuckle. The image won’t leave your mind and you think you would pay a large sum of money to see that image in real life as you let yourself fully laugh.

Your shoulders are shaking, and you realize you’re giggling like an idiot. You remember the last time you almost giggled and your chest squeezes and you choke on your breath. Now, you see the image of Laura twirling a lock of your dark hair between her fingers and the small smile she gave you when you wondered whether you needed red hair for her to like you and she somehow read your mind and knew exactly how to assuage your concern. You remember the way her eyes crinkled, and how those honey irises smoldered so beautifully. Then you remember she doesn’t need you and you’re only adding to her burdened shoulders with your bullshit. Your giggles give way to hiccupping sobs and you’re not so much crying as gasping for air as you feel something inside you shiver and crack.  
You knew this was coming but you were not prepared for the force of it. You feel like you’ve been hit by a semi-truck straight to the chest and you can’t get the air into your lungs. The worst part is you know you should leave her, so you won’t hold her back anymore. But you also know you’re too much of a coward to leave her. You’re selfish and you want her all to yourself, but you know it doesn’t work like that.

Your gasps and hiccups slowly fade, and you’re left watching the sun set through the window feeling empty. When the last of the suns rays fade and day turns to night you get up from your perch and decide to tell Laura she should stay the night with the scientist. You know she’s been staying in the library for you and you can’t let her do that anymore.

She told you last night that you were strong and even though you don’t believe it in the slightest, you sure as hell are going try. Because you take so much from her and you’ll be damned if you’ll make her a liar too without at least trying to prove her right. Your inner cynic notes that you may very well be damned in the literal sense of the word, but you shove that thought away as you turn the corner.  
The room looks like it was hit by a tornado. There are books on just about every surface of the room and papers with symbols and words scattered on the floor and there’s even one taped to the frat boy’s back. The scientist’s wall of papers has tripled in size and it must be three or four layers deep. Empty coffee mugs dot every available surface not covered by books or papers. The curly haired one has four more mugs in her hands and is frantically trying to organize it all, but it’s simply too overwhelming. As you walk further into the room your boot squeaks on the floor and five pairs of red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes turn to look at you. You can’t bring yourself to find the ones that hold honey brown irises, so you just turn and make your way to the couch before flopping down and throwing your arm over your face. As much as you would like to deny it, Laura’s tired voice makes your chest warm.

“Okay guys we’ve been at it for 12 hours and we made some progress. You wanna call it a night?”

You hear a few hums and grumbles and a relieved sigh. There’s the shuffling of papers and the sound of chairs scraping the floor as they’re pulled out. You sit up and prepare yourself to tell her what you need to tell her because you know it will hurt like hell, but you have to do it. Because you made a promise to try.

“Hey Cupcake.” Your voice is gruff from not having used it all day, so you clear your throat.

She turns and you keep your eyes trained on her nose and mouth because you’re not sure if you can look into her eyes when you do this.

“You should sleep at the scientist’s place.”

She furrows her brow. Her hair looks like she just rode down the highway with the top down and she has a small chocolate mustache from all the cocoa you know she’s guzzled over the course of the day. You sigh because this girl has got you wrapped around her finger and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

“What? No, I’m fine Carm. I like it here,” she says as she walks slowly over to you. The short ginger lingers by the door as the rest of the gang tries to look like they’re not listening. Honestly you couldn’t care less what they think about you, but you don’t like that you have to do this to Laura in front of them.

“Creampuff, I know you want to sleep in a real bed. My vampiric constitution prevents me from getting back pain from sleeping on this extremely uncomfortable couch, but I know you’ve been dreaming of a real bed for the last five years.”

She’s flicks her eyes towards the group at the door and they quickly avert their eyes and you wonder how these idiots make through life being so ridiculous. You’re still keeping from meeting her eyes, but you can tell from the way she bites her lip she’s conflicted.

“No- I mean yeah I wouldn’t hate sleeping in a real bed and I haven’t been outside the library in a while and it would be nice to see Laf and Perry’s new place-“

“Laura.” You interrupt because she’s rambling herself into a hole and you’re worried if you don’t interrupt her, she’ll forget to breathe.

“Name one reason why you should stay.” You say. Then you can’t do it anymore and your eyes find hers and you’re falling again. You haven’t sat in her gaze for a whole day and it feels like a punch to the gut.

She’s biting her lip again and searching your face for something. You’re free falling and your stomach is lodged in your throat, but you try your damndest to keep it off your face because you know she’ll stay if she’s sees you like this. You focus on taking shallow breaths in and out at a somewhat even rhythm and you think you’ve succeeded because you see her look over at her short haired ginger friend and then back at you with a decision in her eyes.

“Ok yeah. If you- I mean if you’re…okay?”

She says hesitantly. You force a smirk on your face and force yourself not to feel because you are definitely not okay- in fact you’re the opposite of okay. But you use the smirk as a mask to cover up how you feel like the ground is being wrenched from beneath your feet.

“I’m fine, cutie. I can take care of myself.” She nods but doesn’t move.

“Go.” You say. Your breath catches when you remember when that word was said to you underneath clouds of gun smoke and you pray it turns out differently.

She nods again and turns to her friends. The ginger smiles at her and throws an arm around her shoulder as she leads her out. But Laura stops just before she’s out of your sight and turns around. Her eyes find yours and she gives you that small smile that feels like it was tailor made for you, and you don’t even have to force the smile that spreads on your face. Then she disappears again and you’re alone.

You stay there, rooted to the couch, and you watch the empty doorway where she disappeared. You pick out the sound of her heart beating amidst her friends and you listen to it until it fades completely. Then, you’re left in silence aside from a ticking clock on the wall beside you.

You’re cold and rootless like this morning. You can’t get your bearings and you find yourself walking towards the window where you’d spent your day. You hoist yourself up on the windowsill again and let your forehead fall onto the cold glass. Your eyes quickly find the stars. You feel so small in comparison. and for the first time, the thought doesn’t comfort you. You feel like you’re turning inward on yourself and you’re descending agonizingly slowly back into the cold. It’s familiar but different. You feel the desperation. You feel the loneliness and regret, but you also feel like you can handle it. You know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you feel strong enough to bare it. You let your eyes drift closed and you surrender to the cold and let yourself fall down and down and down into the depths. You know you may not come back up ever again, but you think maybe that’s okay. Maybe this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Maybe you met Laura so she could give you just enough warmth and strength to make it. Maybe that’s all you deserve.

You drift off seeing crinkling eyes and that small smile and you think maybe it’s enough.

•

You dream you’re swimming in some cold, dark ocean and you can’t tell which way is up. You’re swimming and swimming and the pressure on your chest builds and builds. You do not panic, but the familiar feeling of dread clogs your throat.

•

You wake when you hear chatting voices and smell bacon. Your dream makes you feel tired because your mind feels like it’s been swimming all night. You slide off the windowsill and shuffle through the stacks towards the voices.

You turn the corner and you see the four people crammed onto the couch with plates in their laps. The curly haired one and the scientists sit with hips and shoulders flush together and the giant puppy sits next to them with Laura perched happily in his lap as she vigorously scoops scrambled eggs and bacon strips into her mouth. The frat boy has a burrito in his hand and is leaning around Laura to try to talk to the red giant sitting alone on the chair, flecks of scrambled eggs splattering the floor in front of him as he tries to speak around a mouth full of food. The amazon just looks at him with a bored look on her face and rolls her eyes at whatever he’s saying.

They haven’t noticed you yet, so you stand there and watch them talk and banter and you’re reminded of why you made Laura leave. This is her family and you’re not part of it. You feel proud of yourself for keeping your promise but you’re still cold and the emptiness in your chest hasn’t faded.

Suddenly Laura’s head turns, and you’re met with those damn eyes and a smile breaks out onto her face.

“Carm! Hey! Good Morning!”

You want to hate her for making you feel this way, but you just can’t. You’re trying so hard to keep your promise and prove to her that she wasn’t lying when she told you were strong but when she looks at you like that you feel so weak. You quickly shove those thoughts away and throw on your smirk.

“Hey cutie. Sorry I’m late for breakfast, but that bacon looks a little too well done to me anyway. I’ll like my pork extra rare.” You waggle your eyebrows and you’re proud of yourself because you don’t think anyone can tell your chest is still empty.

“Oh! Yeah! I thought you might be thirsty, and I made Laf find you some blood.”

You look over to the scientist, expecting them to chuck another rabbit at you, but they just get up and reach behind the couch revealing a cooler. They set it on the coffee table, and you walk up to peer inside. You see three stacks of plastic bags full of dark, blood.

“I swiped some from Silas General. It’s amazing how people just do whatever you want if you’re wearing scrubs in a hospital. I just walked in and grabbed an armful- no questions asked!”

You look at the blood bags, dumbfounded, ignoring they way your gums ache slightly at the sight. Human blood tasted much better than animal blood. It was like comparing a seasoned filet mignon with a veggie meat substitute. You remember you told Laura this when she was interrogating you the other day. She had asked if the reason you didn’t eat the rabbit that first day was because animal blood didn’t taste good. You told her you’d much rather eat her over a rabbit any day of the week and twice on Sunday. She blushed crimson and said “good to know” before pivoting and asking some question about whether your hair grew like humans’ do. But her faced stayed red for a good ten minutes and you remember thinking you would give your right arm to hear what she was thinking.  
You look over to her now and she’s blushing again.

“I thought you might be thirsty soon since all you’ve had is a rabbit and I didn’t think it would be right to eat breakfast in front of you without bringing you something.”  
She sounds adamant and you think maybe she’s trying to convince herself what she said is true. But you sense there’s another reason. You file it away to ask her later. You take in her red face and give her a dirty smirk.

“Thanks, cupcake.” You say. Her face promptly turns into a tomato and you know she’s remembering your conversation. You smile at her genuinely and your chest doesn’t feel quite as empty.  
After breakfast, the gang continues where they left off and you grab a bag and make your way to your window. You pick up a new book and lose yourself in the words.

Several days pass like this. You wake up and join the gang while they eat breakfast together. For some reason they always try to cram as many people as they can on that wimpy couch. One time the puppy boy lays down and stretches across the ginger lovebirds and Laura’s laps. They simply place their plates on his torso and legs and eat their eggs and bacon like normal. Laura occasionally breaks off a piece of her bacon and drops it into his mouth and he chomps on it happily. Once she purposefully drops scrambled eggs onto his forehead and she giggles like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen. He just stretches his tongue and tilts his face to try to get the egg to slide into his mouth.

After breakfast, they get up and settle into their work. You grab a new book off the shelf and find your window. The sun sets and you walk back into the lounge, Laura calls it a night, and then they all shuffle out the door. Every night you’re left with one last look from the blonde and a small smile. When you go back to your window to sleep, it’s that image that gets you through the night.

Your dreams make you tired in the morning. You’re always running or swimming or falling through darkness. You don’t know which way is forward or backwards, but you just keep going and going until the smell of breakfast wakes you up and the cycle starts again.

It’s wearing on you. And even though Laura gives you enough to get you through the night, you wonder how long it’ll take until it’s not enough anymore.

After almost two weeks of this, you’re sitting on the windowsill just like always, when you hear a familiar beating heart growing louder. You know that beat and as much as you hate it, you feel just a bit warmer.

And then she’s there and you try to arrange your face into something akin to indifference, but you’re not sure if you hit the mark. You usually have a minute to settle yourself before you see her every day, but she’s caught you off guard.

“Hey. I was wondering where you go during the day.”

You just look at her and you see the bags under her eyes. You want to reach out and run your fingers along them, but then you think about her sleeping in a real bed every night. While you’re here at the window. You need this distance between you, because it’s the only thing keeping you from ruining this.

“Well, you found me.”

She takes in your form and the dozens of books stacked on the floor below you. She bends and picks up one of the top books and flips open to a random page.

“Those who prefer their principles over their happiness, they refuse to be happy outside the conditions they seem to have attached to their happiness.” She reads aloud. “Sounds light and frothy.”  
Her face is light and joking but you think she looks a bit uncomfortable too. Her eyes don’t crinkle like they’re supposed to, and you wonder for the millionth time what she’s thinking.

“It's comforting. He understands that love doesn't mean the same thing to everyone.” You say. She looks at you with an unreadable expression, and then back at the page in confusion as if wondering how the hell you came to that conclusion.

You chuckle. She’s too literal for philosophy texts, you think. But you also know she has firm beliefs about the world and has the capacity to think deeply and critically.

“You might like Camus. He was an absurdist.”

She looks back at you with a furrowed brow.

“That sounds mean, why would people call him that.”

You shake your head and smile. This girl.

“No, cupcake it’s not an insult. It’s complicated, but he essentially believes the world is meaningless and you have to accept that or else you can’t live rationally.”

She squints at you and plants a hand on her hip.

“And you think I would like him why?”

You just smile and let yourself remember how you felt when she held your hand in hers and made you believe for a moment that you could be as good as she is.

“What you told me the other day. What matters is what you make with what you’re given in this moment. He believes that too. That the universe is random and when we accept that we’re free to make what we want with our life.”

She looks at you and steps closer so she’s in your space. She hands the book to you and gives you that smile.

“That’s true. But life isn’t meaningless.”

She’s burning you with those eyes of hers and you couldn’t look away if you tried.

“Agree to disagree, cupcake.” You say giving her a soft smirk. She’s burning you up, but you still feel empty and you feel your cheeks struggle to keep the corners of your mouth up under the weight of this feeling.

She tilts her head at you.

“You don’t think life has meaning?”

You just shake your head slowly, because the air has been squeezed from your chest. You know if you try to speak no sound will come out. You feel your face twitch under the strain of your desperation. You’ve been strong enough to handle these past few weeks. All you’ve had to do is eat breakfast with the gang, read all day, and say goodnight. It’s not much, but it’s exactly as much as you can handle. You congratulate yourself every night when you make it through the day without giving in.

Because you made a promise to try with Laura and you’re trying. God, you’re trying. You take just enough from this girl and not a single ounce more. And you see her in the mornings and she’s so beautiful and you think what you’re doing is worth it. Worth denying yourself her warmth. Because you feel like she burns brighter now that you’re not sucking her dry. She has her chosen family and they have her.

“Yet you read all these books about the meaning of life.” She says, raising a brow.

You look down at the books in question and ponder her statement. Why do you read these books? You’ve read them again and again over the centuries and yet you still come back to them for comfort. You wonder if maybe you’re searching for something in all these theories and postulates. You’re not sure what to say, but you feel your breath return to you, so you ask her a question, so you don’t have to respond to her.

“And what do you think the meaning of your life is?”

She looks at you and her eyes crinkle just slightly and her mouth twitches. She runs a hand through her hair and purses her lips in thought.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know till it’s over and I look back on it.”

She furrows her brow and searches the ceiling with her eyes as she thinks.

“But I don’t have to know right now. I’m okay with that. Sometimes I get a glimpse.” Her eyes return to yours and your chest warms.

“Like somedays I’ll be doing something, and I’ll just know it’s where I belong. That what I’m doing is right.”

She’s smiling as she says this, but then she pauses. She takes a deep breath, her smiling fading a bit.

“Somedays I wonder whether I matter at all.”

She purses her lips and shift to lean against the wall on the other side of the window so she’s facing you.

“The last five years I’ve felt like that every moment of every day. But lately-” She sighs. ”Lately, it’s been different.”

You search her face but she’s keeping her thoughts locked up tight. But the intensity of her gaze is making it hard to breathe again and it’s not uncomfortable. Her stare ignites something in you and it’s making you breathless.

But then she breaks her gaze to look out the window. It’s close to sunset and the light is beginning to soften to dark yellow. It makes her lashes glow gold where the light runs through them. She’s so beautiful, you think. And you’ll never be enough for her.

You bite your lip to keep it from trembling because honestly this much Laura is too much to take. You look at this girl shining in the dying rays of the sun and you’re reminded again of how she waited for you in that clearing so strong and steady.

The least you could do is offer what you have.

The only thing you have to give her.

So, you offer it. All of it.

“Did you know you’re the reason I wake up in the morning?” you say quietly.

Her eyes snap to yours and they’re wide as saucers.

“Carm.” She whispers. And it’s so quiet that you would not have heard it without your sensitive hearing.

You ignore her and continue.

“Did you know you’re the reason I can fall asleep at night?”

Your voice is steady because you use every last drop of strength she’s given you over the past few weeks with her smiles and her burning eyes. You pour it into your throat and force it past your teeth to make your voice strong. You want to show her what she’s given you. You want her to know how she’s turned a wretch like you into something better.

You want her to know how she’s given you more than you ever deserved and you’re grateful for it.

You want her to know what she’s done so when this is over and she leaves and you’re not there to tell her, she’ll know she’s strong enough for the times when she thinks means nothing at all.  
Because she means everything to you.

She stays silent for a few minutes just staring at you and you need her to leave because you’re about to lose it. You breathe in and tell her.

“Go, cupcake. I’ll be fine here.”

You get up and stand in front of her. You’re looking into honey brown and she’s looking at you like you hold the universe in your hands. You give her a small smile and bring your lips slowly to press against her forehead. It’s not a kiss. It’s just skin pressing on skin. She leans into your lips and your heart squeezes. You close your eyes, breathe in her scent and let it fill your head.

“Goodnight, creampuff.” You whisper and your lips brush against her skin as you speak. You step back and turn to walk further through the stacks, her warmth lingering on your lips.

You don’t look back. You walk aimlessly through the stacks. Row after row of bookshelves stretching to the ceiling. You’re not paying attention to where you’re going. You just know you have to keep moving otherwise you’ll crumble to the floor. Your legs carry you forward and all you can think about is your lips against her skin and the way she breathlessly whispered your name.

Suddenly, you smell a familiar scent, but you know Laura hasn’t followed you because you can’t hear her heartbeat. You follow the scent and find what appears to be an office. There are frosted glass windows and a thick mahogany door which stands ajar in the middle. You see markings on the glass, and you step closer. You realize they’re tally marks. Groups of 5 lines, four parallel and a fifth obliquely crossing over them. There are dozens of them. You quickly count them and there’s almost four hundred. You’re puzzled until it clicks.

One for every day Laura was stuck here. 1834 days. Five years’ worth.

Your heart squeezes as you imagine a tired and defeated Laura coming here after a long day and placing yet another mark on her makeshift calendar. Your eyes shift back to the door and you make your way inside, trying to shake the image from your brain.

Inside you find what looks to be a makeshift bed. She’s spread out several blankets and pillows she must have found around the library. There’s a bookshelf which she’s jerry rigged to serve as a closet. Several button downs and animal print sweaters hang there, and various colored pants and jeans are folded below. There’s a filing cabinet in the corner and you walk over to find some cans of soda and several boxes of cookies. Something catches your eye underneath and you move the packages of sweets to the side. It’s a bottle of champagne. You reach in and lift it out. It’s an extremely expensive bottle of champagne and you wonder where in the hell she got it. Although, you think she probably doesn’t realize she has a thousand-dollar bottle in her filing cabinet. You chuckle at this.

As you look at the bottle and wipe off the dust collected on the label, you realize she was saving this for when she figured out the library. Your chest squeezes again as you stand there and take in the room.

This was where Laura came back to every night. After a day of failure. Or what she thought was failure. She would come back here and open the filing cabinet for a bedtime snack and see this bottle at the bottom. You know her well enough now to know that while she probably felt haunted by the sight, it was probably something that kept her going. Because that girl survives on hope and this was a symbol of that. You knew she would see this bottle every night and feel her failure rest heavy on her shoulders. Heavier than she could bare. But then, because she’s Laura, she would somehow turn that into her motivation. It would drive her forward to try one more day.

1834 times.

You walk over to her bed as you imagine her closing the filing cabinet and shuffling over to her bed to sleep. You pick up one of the books stacked next to her pillow.

It’s Nancy Drew.

And that’s what breaks you. Your knees give out and you fall onto the blankets.

This girl.

She has turned your world inside out and you know you’ll never recover. You’ll never recover from the hurricane that is Laura Hollis.

You’ve given her everything you had to give. You gave her yourself. You told her the worst of yourself and told her what she means to you. You laid your sacrifices at her feet for her to take and run. So that she could go on.

And now you’re left with nothing. You’ll be falling and falling for the rest of your life. And you know there’s no bottom. Rock bottom is a myth. There’s no end and you will just keep falling deeper and deeper until you can’t tell the difference between you and the dark ether that you float in.

You’re shaking and you curl up and clutch the bottle to your chest. It’s a piece of her and you think maybe if you clutch it hard enough, you’ll be able to hold some of her in your cold, dead heart. You press your nose into her pillow and let her scent fill your senses. You let yourself surrender to it and eventually your shaking stops. But you’re tumbling over the edge into infinity and you don’t think you want to wake up.

•

You do, of course. You hear the door creaking and a heart beating. You’re convinced you’re dreaming of her but then you hear her whisper in the dark.

“Carm.”

And you know it’s not a dream, because you never could have conjured up the pain in her voice. You lift your head to find her and you can barely make out her face. She walks slowly over to you and shucks off her shoes and socks before leaning down reaching over you to grab the edge of a blanket and another pillow.

She lays down in front of you and sets her pillow down next to yours before flinging the blanket so it settles over both of you. She rests her head on her pillow and lies on her side facing you.

You feel a small hand reach through your arms and tug on the neck of the bottle.

“Carm. Let go.”

She says softly. You slowly relax your arms and she sets the bottle somewhere on the floor behind her.

She’s closer now and the light the filtering in through the frosted windows is just enough so you can see her face. Her eyes are smoldering coals and you feel yourself start to shake again.

She scoots forward so her body is pressed against yours and wraps and arm around your waist. She pulls gently, so that you roll and she’s on her back and you’re half-way on top of her like the night on the couch. You’re shaking uncontrollably now, and your breath is coming in small gasp and hiccups. She tangles your legs together and presses a hand on the back of your head to encourage you to put your head in the crook of her neck. You maneuver so you can feel her pulse against your lips again because you think it’s the only thing that will stop the shaking. Her hand comes up and begins combing through your hair slowly.

You lay like this for a while and eventually your shaking stops and your breaths come out more or less evenly. She brushes her lips against your temple just as you had done to her just hours earlier. You lean into the pressure and you feel her lips curl into a smile against your skin.

“You.” She whispers.

You lift your head just enough to meet her eyes. She lets her hand come down to brush over your brow and then brushes your hair back away from you face.

“You’re the one reason for me to stay.” She whispers. You feel that thing inside you splinter again and you can’t form words to respond. So, you bury your face in her neck again, your lips finding her pulse. You wrap your arm around her torso and bunch your fist around her shirt.

You drift off to the feeling of her fingers raking gently through your hair and her steady heartbeat on your lips.

This girl is the only one that can catch you. And you’re going to hang on for dear life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol Carm is Whipped! and she HATES Danny so much lol  
> Danny gets so much shit in fanfics and my fic is no exception lol
> 
> I honestly love the Kirsch-Laura friendship ship. Kaura? Lirsch? anyway. They're adorbs and I plan to write more Lirsch scenes
> 
> also it is true wearing scrubs in a hospital can get you almost anywhere. although it depends on the hospital. lol you def could not STEAL BLOOD tho but it's Laf so maybe they could they're wild
> 
> Ooh and that DIRTY innuendo from Carm. "I'd eat you any day". LOL What is Laura thinking, I wonder...**waggles eyebrows suggestively***
> 
> I am no philosophy expert. I'm def noob level on that. but I googled Camus when I saw that quote was his and his absurdist theory went perfect so I went with it. If I'm way off base lemme know. But I'm keeping it anyway bc this is my fic lol and I'll incorrectly characterize philosophers if I want to :D
> 
> FYI Laura's meaning of life philosophy is mine. Come yell at me in the comments and we can discuss!
> 
> Laura is the angel can we all agree. That dusty champagne bottle BROKE my heart. I wasn't planning that but it just came out and my god I caught the feels. and Nancy drew LOL carm could not handle the cuteness. 
> 
> Jeez did I mention this is a slow burn? We're like 30k in and we're just getting to almost-forehead kisses. Hollstein is endgame but we will go on a RIDE before then so BUCKLE-UP CREAMPUFFS. You've had enough soft Hollstein, get ready for the fireworksssss
> 
> and that concludes my extremely long author's note. Bye!


	8. The Light from a Dying Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after
> 
> Lirsch is adorbs
> 
> Hollstein being Hollstein (not the good way)
> 
> Carm is trying
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! So I had trouble writing this one. The words just didn't come as easy as they usually do. usually I just sit down and say, okay I want this to happen and then I just go and let the characters take me there however they want to. I had to be a bit more deliberate this time. As a result I think maybe this isn't my best chapter. But still by the end I was flowing again so I'm moderately satisfied. Idk let me know what you think! I may go back and add/edit this chapter later cause I think it could use a bit more interesting language. 
> 
> Anyway! I took a break from researching how women and children's health are disproportionally affected in humanitarian crises. So maybe a little anger and frustration came out? you'll see where. (injustice TRIGGERS me lol)
> 
> Here is 4.7k of Hollstein being Hollstein!

* * *

A million shards of glass  
That haunt me from my past  
As the stars begin to gather  
And the light begins to fade  
When all hope begins to shatter  
Know that I won't be afraid

If I risk it all  
Could you break my fall?

How do I live? How do I breathe?  
When you're not here I'm suffocating  
I want to feel love, run through my blood  
Tell me is this where I give it all up?  
For you I have to risk it all  
'Cause the writing's on the wall

-Sam Smith, "Writing's on the Wall"

* * *

You dream that you’re walking. You’re walking down some city street and people bustle around you. You’re bundled up against the cold air and there’s a determination to your stride. Your legs take you forward. You twist and turn through the streets, and at each corner you know exactly which way you’re going to turn, like you’d walked this route a thousand times.

You start to feel yourself rousing, and the city streets blur until they fade to black. You feel something running back and forth across your cheek. Finally, your eyes open.

You’re view mostly consists of smooth skin dotted with freckles. You take in her neck, noting the way a vein pulses lightly but steadily there, you follow it up to a chin and pink lips.

And you remember you fell asleep in Laura’s arms. You remember waking up and watching her dark form make her way towards you and then you were enveloped in warmth. You remember shaking so hard your teeth chattered and then a pulse against your lips and then oblivion.

Last night was the first night since you’d started sleeping at the window that you didn’t wander in your dreams. You don’t feel exhaustion in your bones like you usually did in the morning. You think back to your dream. It’s fading quickly, the details slipping through your fingers like smoke. But you remember walking through the cold. You remember you were walking somewhere you knew would be warm. You can’t place a name to your destination, but you remember feeling certainty like iron in your bones, that it was where you belonged.

A small, slightly callused thumb is still rubbing rhythmically across your cheek and you close your eyes again as you savor it. Laura came back for you. You don’t know how she knew, but she did.  
You would have endured it regardless. You would have gone to sleep and wandered all night through the dark again. You would have woken up alone, put her champagne back into the cabinet and walked out to greet her for breakfast, feeling like you’d walked around the world to get there. But it would have been worth it. It would have broken you further. It would have worn another layer of yourself away, but you would have done it.

You would have done it for her.

But she came for you. She pulled you out of the endless ether and made you warm again. You didn’t need it. But god, you are grateful. And you feel like maybe you’ve taken a step forward. Maybe you can do this without her. Maybe when she leaves, you’ll be okay. Because she’s shown you that you can be strong when you need to. She’s given that to you. You just hope that you can give her the same in return before it’s over.

“I know you’re awake.”

Her voice reverberates through her chest and radiates through your lips where they’re pressed against the base of her throat. It’s gruff and laced with sleep, and you want to record it so you can play it over and over when she’s gone.

“No. Sleeping.”

You say. You think you can almost feel her rolling her eyes into the back of her head and you wish you could see the small smile that you know is forming on her face.  
You feel a sharp pinch in your ribs, and you jump up in surprise.

“Hey!” You yelp. You sit up slightly on your elbow so you can look down at her. You had planned on glaring at her and maybe even throwing in a hiss for good measure, but you freeze because god, you’ve never seen anything like her.

Her eyes are puffy with sleep and there’s impressions from the pillow lining her cheek. She’s giving you that smile that makes your ribs feel like there going to shatter to a million pieces. Her lips are turned up into that smug smirk that makes your stomach fly up into your throat with pride and your lips can’t help but stretch into a goofy grin.

And her eyes. They’re heavily lidded with sleep and they crinkle in lazy amusement. You desperately want to freeze this moment because the morning light is lighting those irises on fire and her cinnamon lashes are glowing gold. You’re afraid to move because you don’t want this moment to end.

“Hey.” She says like it’s a secret. Like it’s hers and yours only.

You look down at her and take in dark red and yellow, cotton pajama pants with some kind of crest on them with the letter G inscribed in the middle. Her oversized, white T-shirt has a picture of a cat with the large bold letters that say, “Does your cat know about the feminist movement?”. It has holes in the collar and the image is cracked and the colors faded. The sleeves come down to her elbows and the frayed hem reaches down to her mid thighs.

“So, does she?” You say. You’re trying to turn the idiotic grin on your face that emerged as you took in her form into a smooth looking smirk, but it won’t budge.

“What?” She asks. Her brows twitch in confusion, but her eyes stay crinkled and lazy with sleep.

“Your cat. Does she know about the feminist movement?”

Her eyes roll backwards so far you think they might get lost in her head and she smacks her forehead with her palm.

“Oh my god, Carm. You seriously need to get some better jokes.” She groans. But her lips are twitching, and you can tell she’s trying to fight a grin and failing.

She lets her hand drop to the blankets and looks at you. It makes your head spin and you think you’re addicted.

“Well, sorry I’m not on top of my game. Some extremely rude girl pinched me and ruined my sleep.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, she sounds like a real bitch.”

Her face is so serious you might believe her if it weren’t for the way her thumb was stroking your shoulder where her hand had landed when you sat up.

“Yeah she is. She’s the worst. I mean she eats cookies like a madwoman and never leaves any for anyone else.”

“No!”

“Yeah I know right! And get this- when I first met her, she tried to kill me with a rabbit!”

You feel a punch on your shoulder and it’s surprisingly painful for such a tiny fist.

“Hey that was an accident! I was trying to be nice!”

You feel a giggle bubbling up in your throat because she looks so indignant that you could ever accuse her of such a thing. It’s just so Laura and you wonder how you can hold so much warmth in your body.

“Yeah sure you were, cupcake.” You say, but you still haven’t managed to change that goofy grin on your face to something more dignified, so you think your sarcasm misses the mark.

She just smiles at you and you search each other’s faces for a while. The playful air in the room fades and you feel the intensity between the two of you. Her smile fades a bit and her eyebrows come together slightly.

“Are you okay?”

She says, and her thumb is back to stroking your shoulder. Your grin fades and you purse you lips into a tight smile. Honestly, you’re not sure. At this moment, you’re more than okay. You feel grounded and rooted and her warmth is radiating through every crack and crevice of your body. It’s hard to remember how you were feeling just hours before, as you clutched that cold bottle of champagned to your chest and let yourself fall down into the dark, thinking you had nothing left to give.

But she came for you. She’s here and you’re blissfully still and warm, so you tell her.

“I’m good, cupcake.”

And it’s the truth. But you leave out the fact that a cloud hovers over your head. It waits, just outside that door. It patiently and eagerly waits for you to let your guard down, and then it will descend, and you’ll be lost again. And that’s the truth you can’t tell her. Not because you don’t want her to know, but because you think if you say it out loud it might break through the walls you’ve placed around your heart. Walls that Laura helped you build brick by brick with every touch and every heartbeat on your lips. It’s new and the cement hasn’t set yet. So, you leave that truth for another day, when you and her have built up your walls high enough and thick enough for it to withstand the storm you know is waiting for you.

You look down at the ridiculous cat on her shirt and you see where your fist wrinkled the fabric, clenching it as hard as you could because she was the only thing anchoring you to the ground. You reach out a hand to smooth it out, your fingers brushing over her hip.

“Liar.” She whispers. You look back at her and she’s smoldering like she did when she laid down on her pillow next to you, and you clench your jaw so hard you think your teeth might shatter at the force.  
You forgot this girl has a bullshit meter that can sniff out your darkest secrets before you even know you have them. It startles you a bit, because you’ve been so distant the last few weeks and you had forgotten how much this girl has got you pegged.

You decide to tell her the truth, but not the whole truth.

“At this moment, I am. And that’s enough. For now.” You say quietly.

Her eyes search your face and you don’t bother hiding anything. It’s over for you, in that respect. You’ve fallen apart in her arms twice now and you told her how she makes your sun set at night and rise in the morning, so there’s no point in pretending. You don’t really know what’s on your face, but you just lower your eyes and keep trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her shirt and wait for her to finish her examination. As much as you feel exposed right now, something inside you feels so elated that you are being seen. Truly seen. No frills, no bullshit. Just you and her. You’re laying yourself at her feet and she’s shining a light on all your dark places, combing through the clutter to find you underneath.

And then her hand is covering yours on her hip and you look up at her. She’s done with her search and she’s looking right at you and you think you’ve never been laid bare in front of someone like this before.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating and it makes you a little breathless. You lace your fingers together and bring the back of her hand to your lips and place a kiss there, hoping she doesn’t notice the way your hand shakes and your lips tremble. And then you stand and tug her up with you.

“Come on, creampuff. Your friends are waiting."

•

You hold her hand for as long as you can, and you’re reminded of when she led you from the beach back to the library. You let go when you enter the lounge and let her join her family.

The gang looks tired. There are dark circles under red rimmed eyes, and while they banter like usual, you notice their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes like they used to. The sight is disconcerting. You hadn’t noticed any of this in the preceding days, but you reckon you were so caught up in yourself you probably wouldn’t have noticed if the scientist grew a second head.

You feel a wave of shame as you think about this. Your selfishness had never been an issue before, and it had even served to save you from certain death a few times. It was the way you survived. But now it feels like you’ve stolen something. Like you were given something on a loan and you simply never gave it back.

And Laura. What if you missed something? She’s always there for you. She always comes to find you. But when were you ever there for her? Is she okay? What if you’ve missed something and you weren’t there to catch her? What if she was tumbling over the edge too, and you were too selfish to see it?

Your eyes find her. She’s sitting between Kirsch’s legs, her back against his front on the couch. His long legs still extend past hers even with hers fully stretched out and the sight makes the corner of you mouth twitch upwards. The frat boy is munching obnoxiously on a burrito behind her, babbling away about his newest batch of Pilsner and Laura is resting her head on his shoulder as she picks away at a muffin.

Her closeness with the puppy boy doesn’t bother you like it does with Xena. You can see genuine affection there, and despite the boy’s apparent dearth of knowledge on how to speak about women respectfully, you can see that the reality couldn’t be farther from the truth. His loyalty and adoration for the blonde is evident in every one of his interactions with her. In some ways, he behaves like a protective older brother, coming to her defense when one of the gingers’ insults goes a little to far and mussing her hair and poking her incessantly just to see how much he can annoy her before she snaps.

In other ways, she’s like his older sister. He looks up to her like she hung the moon and hangs on to her every word, smiling like an idiot if she compliments him. She smacks him in the head when he says something especially vulgar or offensive and patiently teaches him when he doesn’t understand something.

They’re family. And even though a few weeks ago that would have made you feel small, now it just makes you feel happy. Happy that Laura has him in her life to make sure she knows how special she is.  
You had plopped yourself down on the floor, leaning back on a bookshelf in the corner of the room as you watched them. As you studied Laura and the frat boy, she finally lifted her head and met your eyes across the room. You don’t even have to force a smile on your lips. She smiles back at you automatically, but you think you see tension in her brow. Like she’s worried about something.

You’re interrupted when a balled-up napkin smacks Laura in the nose.

“Come on, Laura. Quit making googly-eyes at the vampire and get to work.”

The frat boy balls up his burrito wrapper and chucks it at the back of the scientist’s head in retaliation.

The ginger doesn’t even turn around. They just continue over to their research wall and pick up a book.

You get up and prepare yourself for another day by your window. This morning with Laura has loosened something inside you. Like there had been a knot there that you had never noticed and now the tension had relaxed infinitesimally. You think today may be better. You turn to walk through the stacks and you’re trying to decide whether you’re going to finish reading Kierkegaard or go to the classics and dive into some Plato when you feel a familiar hand wrap around your wrist.

You turn and you see honey and cinnamon.

“Stay.” She murmurs.

You’re frozen and something in her voice cracks you open. There’s no deliberation. The decision has already been made.

“Okay.”

Because when Laura asks you to stay, you stay.

She gives you a wobbling smile and you lean in to brush your lips against her temple before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the table to join her family.

•

You don’t exactly know what you’re supposed to be doing. You usually tune them out when they start talking about giant fish and talismans. As far as you can tell, they haven’t made much progress figuring out what the library wants them to do.

You sit there reading some of your friend Kierkegaard’s musings with your boots propped up on the table, much to Susie Homemaker’s dismay. For the better part of the morning, she shoves your legs off the desk with surprising vigor with an indignant huff whenever she walks past you to give Laura another cookie or refill her cocoa. You simply wait until she turns her back and put them right back. At around noon she finally gave up, which was honestly a bit disappointing. Annoying the curly headed ginger was your only form of entertainment other than your book. And you had read it at least 50 times already so it was really not holding your attention at the moment.

You found your attention drifting to the girl next to you. She was hunched over some chart and furiously highlighting something on it, marker cap clenched between her teeth. She kept putting her pencils behind her ears, and then forgetting and thinking someone was stealing her pencils. You would just reach over, plucking the pencil from her ear, and offer it to her with a smirk. She would wrench it out of your hand with a glare and you would lean back in your seat with a chuckle while she went back to scribbling unintelligible words on post-it notes.

After about the fifth time you spoke up.

“You okay cupcake? You’re not going senile on me, are you?”

She narrows her eyes at you and snatches the pencil from your fingers.

“You know you could at least try to help.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah I’m gonna pass. Whatever it is you are trying to find out about this crazy whale that’s got light shining out of its ass, I want no part of.”

She furrows her brow and looks at you in confusion.

“Carm, what if it’s serious? What if it is evil and people ending up getting hurt because of it?”

You shake your head. This is why you lone wolfed it for so many years. The world is just too much if you care about what happens to other people.

“Honestly, creampuff that’s not my problem. And from what these books are saying, you’re meddling with some pretty powerful forces. You’d be smart to just forget about all this and think of your time in the library as a vacation. There’s a reason why I’ve lived this long, and it wasn’t because I interfered in the affairs of gods.”

“A vacation?” She looks at you with wide eyes and they’re scorching.

“Really? You think being dragged around the world against my will for five fucking years was a vacation?” she spits at you.

“Yeah I was having a blast when I was floating in the Pacific Ocean and I almost got eaten by sharks when I walked out the door!”

Her voice is raising in volume and the others fall quiet and look at Laura like she’s a bomb ready to go off.

“And oh yeah, I just loved when I was in the middle of the Siberia and I almost starved to death because there was a blizzard that lasted 2 weeks and all I had was a pack of cookies and grape soda to eat!”  
She’s yelling now, and you just sit there and watch her like the imbecile you are.

“And you think you’re so clever because you lived for so long. Maybe I’ll take your advice. Maybe I’ll just stop caring about everything and maybe it’ll just go away on its own. Maybe I’ll just decide it’s not my problem and leave everyone I care about and god knows how many innocent people to die.”

You feel fury roar in your chest at her words. You find yourself standing over her in her chair.

“I’m not gonna apologize for what I did to survive. I’m telling you this Lois Lane bullshit is gonna get you killed. Once you get it through that thick skull of yours that your idiotic morals are just a pathetic attempt to impose rules on in arbitrary world, you’ll realize that caring about people just gets you hurt. You’d be pretty damn stupid to think otherwise. And I thought you were smarter than that. But the longer I stay here the more I realize that you’re not.”

She stands too and now you’re looking into each other’s eyes and she’s burning hotter than the sun.

“Are you telling me you don’t care about anything? About any of this?”

“Wow, maybe you are smart, cupcake. You’re finally getting it.” You say sweetly.

“I don’t believe you. You care. I know you do. You’re just too much of a chickenshit to show it.”

Her jaw is set and her nostrils flare. God, she just doesn’t get it.

“No, Laura. That’s just me. I don’t know what I have to do to make you get that. I. Don’t. Care. Not about the damn fish. Not about all those innocent people. Not about these idiot gingers. Not about you. Nobody. There’s no deeper layer. I’m not hiding behind some cool exterior for you to break through to me. It’s who I am.”

“No it’s not. Why can’t you see that? If you could just-“

“NO Laura.” You’re shouting at the top of your lungs now. “No. I can’t “just” do anything. You keep trying to make me into something I’m not and never will be. Give it up, Laura. I’m not your knight in shining whatever. I’m not good enough for you and once you realize that you’ll just toss me aside. You know what, let’s just skip to the end then, yeah?”

You slam your book onto the table and stalk out of the room.

All you see is red and your gums ache as your fangs descend. You can’t be in the library right now; you can’t be near her right now. Your legs take you towards the door where the ginger squad goes through every night and you find yourself walking through trimmed cut grass with the afternoon sun on your back. You ignore the prickling feeling on your skin and start running. You just run as fast as you can because you need to get as far away from that library as you can.

Your jaw is clenched so hard that you feel your teeth creak under the stress .

The audacity of this girl. No matter how many times you’ve shown her what you are she doesn’t listen. She only hears what she wants to hear. God, you gave her everything you had to give. You broke yourself open and let all your shit flow out for her to see. You gave her everything and she has the gall to ask for more. To demand more.

And you don’t have anything more. You don’t. There’s nothing there. Your chest is so fucking empty, and you did that for her. You wrenched your cold, dead heart out and gave it to her to keep. And it wasn’t enough for her.

And god the arrogance! To shame you for not caring about people. As if her quarter of a century on the planet could even compare to your 340. As if she could imagine the pain you’ve been through. As if she could imagine what it took to get where you are.

You slow down to walk. You’re by a lake. It has a small rocky beach and trees leaning over the banks. Over to one side, a pile of larger boulders sits in the shallows. You go over and hoist yourself to perch on the tallest one. You let your feet dangle off the edge and rest your head in your hands. You’re breathing heavily but the longer you sit there the more the red tinge in your vision fades and your breathing slows.

Your anger is dissipating because you know this is deeper than anger. What Laura said cut you deep. You were hanging on to the fact that she accepted you as you are. That she saw you. Truly saw you and still wanted you around. But none of that is true. She wanted to fix you. You were her charity case. Just a poor little vampire with demons in her past who just needed someone to bring her into the light.

But you couldn’t be changed. This is who you are, and you hate it. You hate that you can’t be enough for her and it makes you hate her for making you feel that way.

It’s silly, really. Because that voice inside your head had been telling you all along that you could never be enough for her. That she would one day realize all you did was take and take and she would leave. Because someone like you could never be with someone like her.

But somewhere along the way, she made you hope that it could be different. The way she held you as you shook and the way she looked at you with those damn eyes- she fooled you. She played you and you fell for it. She played you like a damn fiddle and the worst part is that you knew the entire time it was happening; you were just too damn weak to do anything about it.

And you know she’s right, too. You do care. You care about her. But that doesn’t change anything. Because you’re still a monster. You have a weak spot for one tiny blonde human with honey brown eyes but you’re just not strong enough to be anything more. There just wasn’t anything left in you to give to anything else.

You sit there and watch the water undulate lazily under the sun. The light reflects off the water and you squint your eyes and you’re back in your mini galaxy. And you remember sitting on the beach before you met Laura. It’s odd to think about that time, because even though only a few weeks had passed, you feel like it was another lifetime ago. You felt like a whole different being.

As you sit on the boulder and feel the sun prickle your skin, you realize it doesn’t feel as warm as it did before. You used to always feel like you were in a freezer all the time. Like all warmth had been leeched from your bones, and everything you touched felt warm in comparison.

You close your eyes completely. You know why.

Laura.

She made you warm when you thought you’d never be warm again. You thought that once you left you would go back to the cold. But of course, that’s not true. Laura has changed you forever. She’s knocked your world off its axis, and you’d been spinning and whirling for so long that when you finally stopped you were too dizzy to know which way was up.

But now you can see. Now you know where your center is. And maybe you’re not enough for her. It is what it is, and even if there’s nothing you can do to change that, you still have a promise to keep. You promised to try and now that you’ve given all that you have to give her, maybe your job is to just be there. Just be there so she can look at you and remember who she is.

You watch the sun set and the moon rise in its place. It’s barely a sliver, and the scarce light that reflects off its surface barely illuminates the earth around you. But it’s something. It’s better than nothing. As measly as it may be, it takes what it gets from the sun and reflects it back. It does what it can with what it has. Nothing more, nothing less.

You heave a sigh and stand up, and with one last glance at the dying moon, you hop down from your perch.

You have nothing left to give her, but you think you can be there. You can show up.

You can show up for her and remind her.

•

By the time you get back to the library, it’s morning. The sky is light and while the sun hasn’t peaked over the horizon, you can feel the sleeping world around you begin to wake up with tired sighs and creaking groans.

The lounge is empty when you walk in, but you know they Scooby gang will be arriving any minute, so you make you way to your window.

It’s just as you left it. A few dozen books are stacked underneath the window, and now the first of the days sunlight peaks through the glass. You walk up and pick up the top book. It’s the Camus you were reading when Laura found you here. You run your fingers over the worn cover lightly, remembering how beautiful she looked with the dying light of the sun in her eyes.

And then you feel a tingling in the back of your skull. You know that feeling. Your inner predator has sensed something you’re not consciously aware of yet. While you haven’t given that side of yourself much control over the past few weeks, you tentatively let yourself slip back into that state of mind, focusing your energy on your environment. And then you smell it.

Earth and vanilla and…her.

You look down at the book. She had held this book for maybe one minute maximum before, and that was almost two days ago now. There’s no way her scent could still be on the book.  
You stop and stare at the object in confusion. Had she come here and picked it up last night?

You look around the immediate area and wonder what she was doing at your window. You set the book down and walk hesitantly towards the windowsill. You let your senses take over and you smell it again. Stronger this time. You place your hands on the ledge and you realize she sat here on your windowsill. And for a long time. Her scent there is quite strong. She must have sat there for a least a few hours.

Looking closer you see streaks on the glass. You know they hadn’t been there before. And then you realize they’re smudges from fingers dragging against the glass. You can’t see any discernable pattern in the marks, but you choke on your breath when you make out the tiny handprint on the surface.

You immediately imagine Laura coming here and sitting on the sill. You can see her looking out the window and idly tracing wandering lines with her finger, like she had on your palm. What was she doing here? And then you look out at the scenery below, where the neatly trimmed grass covered the open space below. That was the direction you ran. Did she watch you leave? A glint of gold catches your eye and your eyes are drawn to a single hair, lodged in the juncture between the window and the wall. Your hand reaches out to delicately take it between your fingers. You look down at it in your hand, almost invisible in the light, and back at the palm print. You see her resting her head against the glass and looking out the window. Her hand comes up to press into the window. Was she waiting for you? Did she sit here and watch as the sun set and the moon rose, waiting for you to come back to her?

You clutch the tiny hair in your fist and run a hand through your hair. You didn’t come back. Not in time. She thinks you didn’t come back for her.

You run your hand vigorously over your face. You wonder.

Your legs carry you through the stacks and then you’re looking at frosted glass and 1834 tally marks.

You burst through the door and you’re hit smack in the face with her smell. The blankets are empty, and you whirl around looking for her, but you know she’s not there because you can’t hear her heartbeat.

You’re still clutching her blonde hair in your fist and you start shaking. She didn’t go back with the gingers. She went to your window and waited for you. And then when you didn’t come back, she came back here, like she had so many times before, thinking she was alone. That no one was coming for her. She laid in the blankets and closed her eyes thinking you didn’t care about her.

And you were the one that told her this. You yelled it, actually, in between calling her a callow and stubborn idiot. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes tightly.

God, why are you such an idiot.

You open your eyes and look down at the hair in your hand. You can fix this. You don’t know how but you’re going to fix this.

You march out of the office and breathe a sigh of relief when you hear chattering coming from the lounge and smell bacon in the air. You pick up your pace and you’re jogging by the time you turn the corner.

Five pairs of eye stare at you and you feel like a wildebeest cornered by a pack of very angry lions. You stop in your tracks, and it only takes you a moment to see she’s not there.  
“Where’s- “ you start but then she walks in the door. She’s got bags under her eyes and her hair is thrown up into a messy bun. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot and your heart squeezes when you realize she’s been crying. She was crying and you were throwing a temper tantrum by the lake.

She stops and looks at you for a moment, a blank expression on her face before turning and sitting on the couch. The frat boy hands her a plate and throws an arm around her shoulders. She keeps her head down and eats her eggs dejectedly.

You had stormed in here, intending to set the record straight. You needed her to know you were here. You came back. It just took you a little too long but you’re here now. But seeing her curl inward on herself, and that blank expression on her face tells you none of that would be welcomed. Any words you had to offer her would be empty.

You walked over the corner and grabbed a blood bag from the cooler. You sat on the floor and sipped on your breakfast.

You couldn’t tell her.

But you can show her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew so that was a roller coaster. 
> 
> In case you're wondering about Laura's T-shirt here's a link to the image I'm thinking of. https://www.redbubble.com/i/photographic-print/Is-Your-Cat-Ready-by-Erikaflea123/7942381.6Q0TX?ref=shop_grid  
> My old roommate had this poster in her room think it's funny okay. lol I def feel like it encapsulates Hollstein and Laura would totes wear this shirt. Also: LAURA IS A GRYFFINDOR. none of this hufflepuff shit. try to fight me on this in the comments but you'll be hard pressed to change my mind. (no offense intended to you hufflepuffs out there, (Kirsch is a hufflepuff and I love him.) but I believe STRONGLY in this lol.)
> 
> The first time I sat down to write this chapter I wanted them to fight but they REFUSED and it ended in pure fluff and declarations of undying love lol So I saved that scene for later and tried again and wrote this. That being said, I don't really know if I fleshed out the fight scene enough. It kind of escalated quickly and ended quickly. Any suggestions? I will probs go back and edit bc I think it needs a bit more oomph. Let me know! 
> 
> Ugh I was talking about this in the comments. Carm self sabotages herself! it annoys me soooo much but I was determined to write it bc it's crucial to Carm's development and overall characterization. It took me a sec to get in that headspace and figure out how to she was gonna work through it mentally but I think it ended up okay.
> 
> Have thoughts or Disagree? Let me know! Talking about it w someone helps me organize my ideas for these characters.
> 
> Next time on TWNAEFSLM, was Carm too late? will Laura forgive Carm? Will Carm get her head out of her ass? Will I EVER move the non-Hollstein plot forward? tune in to find out!
> 
> and because I like when authors do this, here are a few songs I listened to while writing this:
> 
> Let me down easy - Max Frost, Love We Found- Bob Moses, and for the fight scene and Carm's tantrum I needed some angryish rock to get the blood flowin lol so- Super Massive Black Hole- Muse


	9. A Stain You Can't Get Rid Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carm tries a new strategy
> 
> Laura is FIESTY 
> 
> 3 steps forwards, 2 steps back. but still progress.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo so I woke up this morning and tried to study but I had this idea for this chapter in my head and I had to get it out! so I wrote this in 2 hours and I'm actually pretty happy w it. Back to studying for me!
> 
> I think you'll like it. ;) Let me know if you do! or don't!
> 
> 6.3k comin at ya

* * *

All that i can do for you is done  
Back and forth, we meet in the middle  
Pull me through the eye of a needle  
Losing in a war already won  
While you're stealing all the fire from the sun

But you don't know if i'm all yours yet  
You don't know how much to take  
Hear me out from where i come in  
There's nothing now that you can say

-Bob Moses, "Stealing Fire from the Sun"

* * *

You stay.

Everyday you sit at the table and you read your Camus or Plato or Nietzche. You don’t say anything to her. You just show up. And you stay. Because she asked you to stay and you left. Sure, you came back but you still left.

When they leave, you go back to the office and wait until the sun comes up so you can see her again. So, you can stay for her. You’re back to like it was before, only this time you see her all day, and you don’t have a new image of a small smile and honey brown eyes burning into yours every night. She doesn’t even look at you anymore. Although, you have caught her a few times while you sat at the table. You’d look up and check on her like you did every few minutes and you’d see her eyes quickly dart away and her jaw clench tightly.

This goes on for several days. But you’re making no progress. You’re getting no help from the ginger squad either, who take every opportunity to glare at you or “accidently” spill cocoa on you. You decide you need to do something. Not being able to talk to or even touch her hand is slowly driving you insane. The number of times you had almost snapped your book in half trying to keep yourself from brushing her hair behind her ear is a bit ridiculous.

That night when they leave, you walk back towards the stacks like you always do, but this time you hide behind it and wait. Once Laura’s heartbeat fades away, you come back out and walk over to the table. You sit down and grab one of papers you noticed Laura seemed to read a lot. You take a deep breath and silently send a curse to this stupid fish god with a flashlight stuck up its ass, before diving in.

•

You try to be discreet. You don’t want Laura to know what you’re doing just yet, but you know she’ll find out eventually. It’s been a week since you started spending your nights at the table, and you’ve been trying to strategically arrange the books on the table so they can see the connections you’ve made in the night. You even try to add some annotations to Laura’s notes in your best approximations of Xena’s handwriting.

You can see now why they hadn’t made any progress. Half the relevant literature was in a foreign language. A good amount of that was in German, which the scientist could translate, but a lot of it was in antiquated or obsolete forms of various languages from around the world. But you knew most of them, and even the ones you weren’t familiar with, you usually could figure out the gist of what you were reading.

With the information you gathered, you tried to subtly arrange the scientist’s crime wall to point them in the direction the need to go. It was delicate and you didn’t think you would be able to keep them from figuring it out for much longer, but you weren’t doing it for recognition.

Another week passes and you can see a bit of a spark in the group. They’re finally making headway after so many grueling days and you can tell morale is up. Laura doesn’t lose quite so many pencils behind her ears and the curly-haired one doesn’t have to clean up as many hot cocoa stains on the carpet.

The downside is that since Laura thinks Danny’s the one that’s been leaving notes for her, and now she thinks she’s a genius. The two spend most of the day with their heads inches apart and Clifford can’t keep her hands to herself. Several times you find yourself reconsidering your decision to keep your interference a secret, especially the time when Laura lets her head fall on the giant’s shoulder and she gets a kiss on her hair in return. You have to take a deep breath and tell yourself over and over that it would be a bad thing if you decapitated the ginger.

Laura still hasn’t looked at you. Except for when she thinks you’re not looking.

One night when after you’ve been hunched over a 4 inch thick book for several hours, trying to remember back to when you learned Mandarin during the Opium War in China, you get up and decide to take a walk to stretch your legs and give your mind a break. The door to what you had assumed was some sort of pantry had been left open, so you walk over and investigate.

You find what looks to be a break room. There’s a fridge in the corner, an oven, a stove, and some counter space and cabinets along the wall. You open a few cabinets and find sugar, flour, baking soda and other various baking ingredients lined up with military precision. This must be where Curly Sue makes all those cookies.

You lazily open some of the drawers and find various junk, silverware, and more cooking utensils. When you open up the last drawer you stop. You look at the contents and your heart warms and your chest squeezes. And suddenly you get an idea. But you need to talk to the scientist.

•

You wait for morning and patiently bide your time. You need to get the ginger alone without Laura noticing. You know Laura has a bladder the size of a squirrel’s, and that combined with the way she guzzles down hot cocoa and grape soda like a vacuum, you know it’s just a matter of time.

Finally, you hear Laura tell Clifford she’ll be right back, and she makes her way out of the room. You snap the book shut and plant your boots on the floor. You’ve got a maximum of 5 minutes and you know this will take some convincing. The short haired ginger has been giving you laser eyes for the last few weeks and regularly sticks out their foot when you walk past to trip you, and you’re pretty sure they were the one that put a pin on your chair the other day when you got up to get a new book. It hadn’t hurt but you got the message loud and clear.

You get up and make your way over to the crime wall where they’ve been standing for the last few hours.

“Hey Einstein. I need to talk to you.” You say quietly. You don’t want the rest of the gang get suspicious. They’re currently too engrossed in their books and papers to notice, but you didn’t want to take any chances. And if your instinct about their friend was right, you knew they wouldn’t tell anyone.

They look up at you and you see disgust.

“And why would I talk to you?” They say incredulously. They look back at the wall and peel pack one of the papers to see something underneath.

“Because you love the cupcake.” You say, still quietly but confidently. You’re bluffing but you’re pretty sure you’re right with this one.

They look up at you, disgust still lining their features, but softened slightly. Their eyes search your face skeptically, but you think their curiosity will get the better of them. You’re right.  
“Fine.” They flick their eyes to the stressed-out college grads staring at books with bloodshot eyes. “What do you want.”

You tell them what you need quickly, and they give you a weird look. You think maybe you’d rather be staked than have this conversation with the scientist because that would be marginally less mortifying. You rub the back of your neck vigorously and tell them what your plan is through clenched teeth, and they purse their lips. They’re searching your face for what feels like an eternity and then they finally nod once.

You nod back and go back to your spot. The moment you settle in your chair Laura comes back in the room and sits next to Danny, who snakes her arm around her waist and starts prattling on about her newest discovery. Your fingernails dig into the cover of your book when you realize it’s something you had figured out last night and left on the table for them to discover.

You roll your eyes at yourself and you think you overestimated yourself with this whole scheme you’ve cooked up. You had never been patient in the least, and this little game you are playing was testing the limits of your self-control. You roll your eyes at your impulsivity and release your death grip on the book.

You remind yourself of your goal and force your eyes away from Clifford’s hand rubbing slow circles on Laura’s lower back.

•

When the gang leaves, you watch Laura disappear through the doorway. You wait for the sound of her heartbeat to fade. It takes you a moment to realize it’s beating as steadily and loudly as ever. You’re frozen in your spot, eyes locked on the empty doorway. She’s standing just on the other side of the wall. Her heart is racing, and you take an involuntary step forward. But you stop yourself. Because if this going to work, she needs to come to you. She stays standing there for a whole minute, and you make out the quiet creaking of the floorboards, as if she’s shifting her weight between her feet. The air is charged, and you feel the hair on your arms stand at attention.

Then, the spell is broken, and you hear the soft padding of feat retreating away. The sound of her heartbeat slowly fades, and eventually you stop hearing it all together. You let out a gust of air you didn’t know you were holding and close your eyes to gather yourself. You can’t fall apart now. You have a plan and you need to follow through with it.

With a tiny shake of your head to dispel the creeping feeling of disappointment from your body, you make your way to the break room. You open the drawer that makes your chest warm and heart squeeze and you smile. The scientist came through.

You grab the contents from the drawer and the ginger’s contribution and sit at the small table in the corner. You set to work with a set jaw and narrowed eyes.

•

You think you might throw this table across the fucking room because your project is a lot harder than you expected. It really shouldn’t be so fucking hard, you’re a fucking vampire for Christ’s sake. It used to be that you could make a disembowelment look like a fucking piece of art deserving of hanging on the Louvre. But now your hands are shaky and the ginger’s fucking thing won’t fucking do its fucking job.

“FUCKING FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!” You yell in frustration. You look at your handiwork. It’s fucking pathetic. A moment later you hear the door bust open and the chattering of voices. You curse again under your breath and frantically gather your things, dropping things to the floor and then again as you make your way hastily to the trash to dispose of the evidence. You pause and look at the finished product in your hand. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best you could do. You heave a sigh and open the cabinet and set it gingerly in its place. You bite your lip and let your fingers linger on its surface. You hear the door bangs open behind you and the scientists walks in. You snatch your hand away from the cabinet and turn. When you see them, you relax but you give them a meaningful look and their eyes search the open cabinet behind you. Once you’re sure they see it, you quickly leave the room and make your way to the corner where you eat your breakfast.

You’re trying to act casual, but your toe is tapping on the floor and your hands are sweating and it’s making it hard to hold the slippery plastic blood bag.

Susie Homemaker and the scientist come out of the break room with breakfast in hand. You watch intently as the scientist makes their way over and hands Laura her cocoa.

“Laf! Did you fix my mug?” She’s looking up at the ginger with wide eyes and an open mouth. You would give an arm and a leg to see those eyes turned to yours, but you make do with what you have.

The ginger flicks their eyes over to you, and you nod minutely. This wasn’t about getting credit. Not now. The look on her face at the moment was enough for you, no matter who was the cause.

They look back at Laura and shrug.

“Yeah L. It’s no big deal.”

Laura springs up and tackles the ginger into a hug, knock them a few steps backwards. They look at you over her shoulder confused. You just shake your head and try to fight the smile creeping on your lips.

The ginger awkwardly pats Laura on the back before disentangling themselves. Laura sits and looks at her Tardis mug in awe. It’s crooked and it looks been run over by a truck a few times but it’s functional.

She brings it to her lips and the lip of it is so misshapen a small bit of cocoa drips down her chin. She looks down at the mug, rotates it slightly and takes another sip. She closes her eyes in bliss and sets it on the table slowly and gently, like it could shatter if she moved it too roughly. You think it might but considering how much of that damn superglue you used, it better not. You don’t think you could even look at a tube of glue again without seeing red.

•

The day goes normally, and you think Laura seems a tiny bit happier. Although, it may just be wishful thinking.

You think Laura is starting to get suspicious of Danny’s brilliance. She doesn’t outright make any accusations, but you can tell by the questions she’s asking her, she’s skeptical. Laura isn’t stupid and she’s got a bullshit meter that could sniff out shit from an ant from a mile away. The red giant’s attempts to pass your discoveries off as her own are frankly pathetic. It’s honestly an insult to Laura’s journalistic acumen and you know that it won’t be long until she figures it out.

You’re not exactly sure what you’re going to do when she does. You came up with this plan in a cloud of desperation with her scent filling your brain when you realized Laura waited for you and you were too late. You figured you’d figure out something when the time came, but you have no idea how she’s going to react, and you have no plan on how to deal with it. You shake your head at yourself. You really shouldn’t make important decisions when you’re high on Laura. Or operate heavy machinery.

Your musings are interrupted when you hear a blood curdling scream come from the break room. Your head snaps up and the scientist makes a bee line fore the door. The rest of the gang shoot up from their chairs and run over to stand in the doorway. You stay seated and watch from your spot. You knew nothing too terrible had happened. You’d heard a lot of screams in your day and you could tell this one was more distress and horror rather than bodily harm. You roll your eyes. Curly Sue must’ve seen a rat scurry across her feet.

You go back to your book and a few minutes later you look up to see everyone packing their things. You look around in confusion. It was still early afternoon.

“Why’s everyone leaving?” You ask to no one in particular.

Laura flicks here eyes to you and scoffs in derision. She’s shaking her head and shoving things in her bag forcefully, which is really only making it more difficult for her. It takes her three angry yanks on the zipper on her bag before it zips shut and she turns away to wait by the door.

It’s the puppy boy that answers you.

“Perry’s not doing so hot. We’re gonna head home and call it a day.” His voice is solemn and slightly shaky and he’s not looking at you as he speaks. You think it’s the first sentence you’ve heard him utter with no sexual innuendos or mildly offensive jokes.

And then you see Laura and Curly Sue come out of the break room. Laura’s got her arm around her shoulders and a red stained towel in her hands. The other girl is walking shakily beside her, hands and shirt covered in blood. Your eyes lift-up to her face and you see thick red blood oozing from her eyes. You scramble to your feet but you’re not sure what to do with this turn of events.  
The gang is making their way out the door.

“Laura-“ You hear yourself call out. It’s the first time in almost three weeks that you’ve uttered her name out loud and you feel a shock go through your body. Perry is handed off to the scientist and Laura stops. She’s looking at the ground for a moment before her eyes find yours and your knees go week.

How had you how gone so long without those eyes on yours?

Her voice is low and laced with venom.

“Don’t worry about it Carm. It’s not your problem.”

You mouth drops open and you watch as she turns and disappears through the door.

You collapse back down into your seat. She wasn’t telling you anything new. You knew she was angry. You knew she thought you’re a callous bitch. You told her as much. But it still cuts you deep. It still takes your breath away. You press your forehead into the table and close your eyes. You’re trying to take even breathes but they’re coming out in shaky gasps. You try to reach back and focus on why you’re doing this. Your mind settles on crinkling honey eyes, puffy with sleep and lidded in lazy amusement. You see twitching lips and you can feel the curve of a hip under wrinkled cotton.

•

You must have dozed off, because you jump a good foot out of your seat when a loud crash rings right next to your head. When you fall back down you miss the chair and you tumble ungracefully onto the floor, smacking your head against the side of the table with a crack.

You scramble up to your feet and look around wildly for the source of the sound, you hand coming up to rub your forehead instinctively. It hadn’t hurt, but it did jar your brain inside your head violently. That combined with the sleepy haze that still clung to your mind made it difficult to figure out what the hell was going on.

Finally, your eyes focus and you’re looking at an extremely angry creampuff leaning over you. Her chest is heaving, like she just ran a mile and her eyes are wild. She’s still wearing her sleep clothes; her baggy cotton sweats hang off her hips and her oversize T-shirt sits askew on her shoulders exposing her collarbone. This one has a picture of some old lady with the words “The notorious RBG”. She flushed red from her neck to her forehead. You can see her jaw fluttering at her temple and her nostrils flare menacingly.

You look at her with wide eyes and try to figure out what the hell she’s doing here in the middle of the night, looking at you like you just ran over her cat. You look around the room confused and frustrated. Why wasn’t there a goddamn clock in this place, you think, it’s like a fucking casino.

Your eyes find hers and she’s white hot.

“What the hell is this?” She barks. You follow her finger and see her misshapen Tardis mug sitting on the table next to where your head was a minute ago. You look back at her.

“A mug?” you squeak. You knew she might not welcome the idea of you doing something nice for her. But you never expected her to come barging in here in the middle of the night to burst your ear drums with it.

“No, it’s not a mug. It’s my Tardis mug. The one YOU broke.”

You look at her and you’re still so disoriented you can’t string a coherent sentence together, so your lips just open and close like a damn fish gasping for air.

“It’s the mug YOU broke and Laf fixed. Or so I thought.”

You clamp your mouth shut.

“Yeah, I was so happy they fixed it for me. I mean it looks like shit, but I thought, wow my friend is so thoughtful. And then I realized I was with them the whole day and night. I literally sleep on an air mattress in their room. There’s no way they could’ve snuck back here and fixed it without me knowing. Plus, if they had done it, it wouldn't look like a toddler’s arts and crafts project.”

You deflate with a gush of air and collapse back down into the chair.

“Laura-“

“No don’t “Laura” me. Cut the bull and tell me.”

You look up at her. God, why did you think this was a good idea again?

“Tell you what, Laura.” You say tiredly.

“Tell me why you did this.”

You shake your head back and forth at her.

“Well it couldn’t because I care about you could it? No. Because I’m just a callous bitch who couldn’t possibly care about anything.” You sneer, your voice dipping low with sarcasm.

Her eyes grow wider and she tangles her hands in her hair.

“My god, Carm. You’re driving me crazy! What do you want me to think? You tell me all the time how much you don’t give a shit about anything. And the second I believe you, you act like I’m a terrible person for even thinking that! And then we…” She trails off and her eyebrows come together. “And then you hold me and you glue my mug back together and you tell me I’m beautiful and what the hell am I supposed to think?!” She yells. Her voice cracks and you see tears welling in her eyes.

You feel that crack inside you grow wider.

“I’m sorry, Laura. I don’t know what you want me to say. You want a world that makes sense. You want me to tell you how I feel about you is logical. You want a trail of reasons that you can follow back to somewhere safe. But I don’t have any of that to give you. I already gave you everything I have, but you’re too damn stubborn to see it.”

You take a shaky breath.

You’re about to continue but she interrupts you.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. She’s looking at the table where you have your notes and books spread around you. Her eyes find yours and you know you’re caught.

“You’ve been helping us.” She says flatly. You just look down at the table and wonder how in the hell you got yourself into this mess.

“Look, I know I’m shit at this and I keep fucking up but…but you’re the only one. You’re the only one in over a century that I found worth it. You and no one else.”

Her lip is quivering, and the corners of her mouth twitch downwards. She’s looking at you like she’s broken, and fat tears tumble down her cheeks.

“So why didn’t you stay?” she says quietly. She sounds so small and broken you feel like your guts are being twisted and torn to shreds inside you.

“I came back.” You say weakly.

She searches your face and you see resignation and sorrow in her eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

Your eyes fall closed and you let her words hit you in the chest and you feel like you may never breathe right again. You nod your head in understanding.

“I know.” You whisper and your eyes open.

She stares at you for a second, and then she wipes the wetness off her cheeks and swallows wetly.

“Goodnight, Carm.”

You stare straight into those clear eyes and as much as she’s trying to keep her pain off her face you can see straight through her. Her eyes have always been transparent to you. She’s always been open to you, and you’ve played games with her. You’ve pushed her away and then turned around and held her as tight as you could, and she doesn’t deserve to be jerked around.

“Goodnight.” You say evenly. She just looks at you like she’s expecting something more before turning and walking to the door.

She doesn’t look back.

•

You sit there and stare at the pathetic mug for almost an hour. Your mind is blank. You gave her everything and it wasn’t enough.

You have nothing else left.

You think back to all the times she came for you. All the times you were drowning and despite your best efforts to the contrary, she didn’t let you push her away. She came and found you and held you until you stopped shaking. She offered her hand and led you back to her.

You told her how you feel. What she means to you. But it wasn’t enough. You tried just being there for her, but you fucked that up too.

You made a promise to try and you are. God, you’re trying. What else was there to do?

You think about her walking the dark sidewalks back to her bed. You can see her flopping onto her air mattress and curling in on herself. She’s alone in the dark and she’s crying because you aren’t enough. Crying because just like the past five years, no one was coming for her. No one was there to save her.

You shoot up out of your seat and you’re running out the door. You feel the cool air hit your face and you let yourself slip into your primal mode. You know it’s a longshot, but you need to find her. And then it’s there.

Laura.

You snap and you follow it. You get thrown off the trail a few times. Once when you pass a bakery, the smell of vanilla wafting from the building and once when you pass a candy shop. But you find your way and you stop in front of an apartment complex. You look at the buzzer panel and frantically search for a clue. Your eyes scan through the names of the residents and then you see it. Apartment 307. Next to it you see a math equation.

You would have chuckled if you didn’t feel so desperate.

Of course, the scientist would have a math equation for their buzzer name. You got a degree in math a couple decades ago on a whim, so you recognize the equation and buzz the appropriate number of times that corresponds with the solution. The door opens and you burst in. You scramble up the stairs because you can’t wait for the elevator and when you find the door marked 307, you break the handle and stumble through the door.

It’s dark with the only light filtering in from streetlight outside the window. But you see a large air mattress in the middle of the floor and a lump of blanket and pillows. You see a toe peaking out from underneath the blankets.

You see the blankets shift and a head come up and squinting eyes look at you in confusion.

“It that you Laf?” She says sleepily.

You close the door and move towards her.

“No, Cupcake.” You say.

She freezes and her eyes widen. You walk up to the bed and shuck off you boots and jacket. You kneel and you’re eye to eye with her.

“Can I stay?” You whisper.

Her eyes bounce between yours and finally her head bobs up and down. So, you slip underneath the blanket an you’re enveloped in warmth and Laura. You hesitate, lying on your side facing her. She just looks at you with wide eyes and suddenly you realize she’s shaking. Her chin quivers and you hear a small hiccupping gasp.

“You’re here.” She says.

You give her a watery smile.

“Yeah I am.” You say simply. You reach out and place a hand on her hip and rub your thumb over the curve of it slowly.

She’s frozen and you know she needs you to lead. She’s led you from the beginning.

She stretched out her hand on the beach.

She came to find you in the dark.

And this time.

This time you came for her.

This time you reach out and tug her towards you. She scooches forward and you stretch your arm that’s below you outward so she can rest her head on it, and you place your other hand on her back and press gently. She molds against you, and nuzzles herself into your chest, her forehead resting at the base of your neck. You rest your chin on her head and draw patterns on her back with your fingertips.  
You lay like this for a while but she’s still trembling and taking shaky breathes into your chest. You bring your hand to the hem of her shirt and slip your fingers underneath to run your hand up her bare back.

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

She nods into your chest and pulls you closer, her fists tightly clenching your shirt over your stomach. After a few seconds, you feel her relax into you. Her breathing becomes steadier and deeper. You continue drawing patterns on her back even after you feel her go limp with sleep. You stay up as long as you can, because you want to savor the feeling of her clinging to you, the feel of your fingers against her bare skin. But you‘d been working double shifts for weeks. You felt your eye lids get heavy and you were too weak to fight it. You take one last breath and revel in her scent and surrendered, the sound of a steadily beating heart reverberating through your chest.

•

When you wake it’s much more peaceful than the last time. You feel a hand on your cheek, and a thumb stroke your brow.

You feel a lazy smile spread across your face, but you keep your eyes closed. You’re scared if you open them it will all come crashing down. But then thumb comes down and caresses your eyelid, then grazes your cheek before settling on your lower lip.

“Carm.” You hear her murmur.

The sound of her voice makes your eyes open automatically. You’re met with lazy crinkled eyes and smoldering irises.

“Cupcake.” You say, just as softly.

“You came.”

You nod against her hand. You plant a small kiss on the pad of her thumb. Her smile widens.

“You stayed.” Another nod and another kiss to her thumb.

“You’re here.” She whispers. You bring you hand up and turn hers so you can place a lingering kiss on her palm.

She’s just staring at you like you’re a ghost and it breaks your heart that it took you so long to come for her. That she had to be the one carrying the burden this whole time.

“Until you order me away, Creampuff.” You kiss the inside of her wrist gently.

You look back up at her and smile. She’s so damn beautiful.

“Maybe not even then.” You say.

Her small smile breaks and she’s got her goofy grin stretching from ear to ear.

“No?”

You shake your head and you know your smile is just as idiotic as hers.

“No, you can’t get rid of me.”

“Hmm, I don’t know I’m pretty persistent. I tend to get what I want.” She teases.

“Hhmm-mm. Nope. You’re stuck with me. I’m like a stain.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, but her grin doesn’t falter.

“A stain?”

You nod and shift closer, so your forehead is just a hairsbreadth from yours.

“Yeah. Like a stain you can’t get rid of. Not even Susie Homemaker could wash me out.”

She leans in the last millimeter and her forehead presses against yours.

Her eyes close and her feel her breath wash across your face through her open lips.

“I don’t know Perry’s pretty good.” She says quietly. The playful tone is waning from her voice, and she sounds a little breathless.

You bring your hand up to cup her jaw and let your thumb rub across her cheek bone.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

You whisper. And you’re a little breathless too. Her hand comes around and she laces her fingers in your hair. You stay there for a moment, breathing each other’s air. You can feel it fill your lungs and you feel alive. You feel more alive than you’ve ever felt, both in your human life and undead life.

Then she tugs you forward gently, and your lips meet. She sucks your bottom lip gently between hers before releasing it and you just lay there with your lips locked together. The feeling of her lips against yours is intoxicating. You could lay there forever just feeling her lips fit against hers, but you want more.

You run your nose along hers before you push forward and meet her lips again, firmly this time. You grip the back of her neck to hold her against you. Her lips part slightly, and you move together slowly and firmly. You tilt your head to change the angle and you hear her heartbeat flutter and pick up. You bring your hand down to her hip to bring her body flush against yours and you gasp at the contact, breaking the kiss. She smiles and you try to go back in for more, but you just keep hitting teeth because she’s smiling too much.

“Creampuff.” You groan. You place kiss her chin “Stop that.” You brush your lips over her still smiling mouth before moving to place another on her nose. She’s still smiling so you roll over her and rain rapid-fire kisses all over her face in retaliation. She’s giggling like a maniac and squirming underneath you. Finally, you have mercy on her and lean back when you’re worried she’s giggling too much to breathe properly.

She’s smiling up at you with bright eyes and wild hair. It’s your smile.

“Hey.” She says, like it’s your secret. You smile as you remember when you woke up next to her in the office. When she came for you.

And now you’re here for her.

“So, who’s this old lady on your shirt?” You ask leaning back to look at her torso.

“Oh my god Carm, it’s RBG! You know the supreme court justice who’s like a total feminist boss. She broke barriers I mean she was a trail blazer in-“

You lean down and plant your lips on hers because she finally stopped smiling and you’re not wasting anymore time not tasting her on your lips. She kisses you back for a second, but then breaks away.

“No Carm seriously she’s like one of my idols. There was this whole documentary about her. She-“

You interrupt her again to kiss her fervently before pulling back slightly.

“Shut up and kiss me, damnit.” You say against her lips. She giggles and places a hand behind your neck and pulls you back down.

You move lazily against each other, lips exploring and caressing, never demanding more. You’re just enjoying feeling each other. Your hands wander across her bare back and settle on her hip, your fingers squeezing the smooth skin there slightly. Her hands trail down your shoulder, caress your sides and settle on your stomach, pressing and tracing patterns across your ribs and down to your hips.  
After a while you pull back. Her eyes stay closed for a moment before opening and searching yours.

You run your thumb across her skin where it still sits on her waist.

“I know this doesn’t fix everything. But I’m here.”

She nods and leans up to press a small kiss your lips.

“It doesn’t. But it’s a start.”

You let your body rest on hers and nuzzle your face into her neck, your lips finding that familiar spot on her neck where you can feel her pulse on her lips. She runs her fingers though your hair gently. And you feel both lighter and more anchored than you can remember.

You know you have a lot to answer for. You know you’ll need to prove to her every day that you’re here for her. But it’s worth it.

Your mind wanders back to the library. You’d been trying to avoid thinking about that damn fish but now that you’ve gotten Laura back (for now), you find yourself pondering the implications of what you’ve uncovered at the desk. She must be thinking the same thing because after a while you feel her voice vibrate on your lips through her throat.

“We’re in trouble aren’t we.” You hear her murmur from above you.

You take in a deep breath press your lips into your neck in a lingering kiss.

“Yeah, we are.” You say.

“I don’t know what to do, Carm.” She says. Her voice is tired, and you wish you could take this burden off her shoulders and carry it for her.

“Me neither. But I think we have to try.” You say into her throat.

You feel her hand tug on your jaw, and you lift your head to look at her.

She places a sweet kiss on your lips, and you let your eyes flutter closed. When she pulls away you keep them closed because you don’t want to see the worry in her eyes.

“Yeah we do.” She says simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. God I thought they were never gonna kiss Jesus Christ almighty
> 
> It was mentioned in the comments that Carm needed to be BITCH SLAPPED and they were RIGHT. I thought she deserved to be woken up so violently like she was bc my god Carm you're a mess. and it worked so XD
> 
> But also SO CUTE. Carm was SO DRAMATIC about that Tardis mug lol and I love it. Laf was like what is your problem dude LOL
> 
> Finally Carm was there for Laura. It's a start but they still need to work out how to be with each other! 
> 
> Anyway I tried a different style this time, kind of letting Carm keep some of her secrets from the reader. I could say it's more dramatic that way which is true but really it's just an excuse so I can bide time and figure out how I'm gonna make this plot happen like I want it to lol
> 
> And back to studying for me...not sure when the next update will be but it will come eventually!
> 
> ***just want to acknowledge that I misgendered Laf once in this chapter by accident. It's a bit difficult because I'm so used to using she/her pronouns w Carm and Laura, but I just wanted to acknowledge my mistake it you've already read it. I fixed it and I hope you accept my sincerest apologies.***


	10. Someone's Twisting a Time-Turner on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback featuring the one and only Laura Hollis. feat her crush on Hermione lol
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy peeps! Well I took a little break from studying and wrote this. A little insight to Laura's time in the library. Changing to 1st person bc I felt like it flowed better with Laura's voice.
> 
> ***some serious depression, hopelessness themes here. Please be warned. This chapter isn't totally necessary for the plot so you can skip it and you won't miss anything.***
> 
> I have some plot nailed out but my exam is in less than a week so I won't be posting until after then. Also if you noticed I added some song lyrics to the beginning of every chapter for fun. Check em out. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think!

* * *

Run away, run away  
One day we won't feel this pain anymore  
Take it all the way  
Shadows of you  
'Cause they won't let me go

So I have nothing left  
And all I feel is this cruel wanting  
We've been falling for all this time  
And now I'm lost in paradise

Alone, and lost in paradise

-Evanescence, "Lost in Paradise"

* * *

Laura

I always admired Hermione. She’s smart and courageous and bold and she doesn’t take crap from anyone. I was mad when she ended up with Ron. He’s such a doofus, she could have done better. Maybe someone like Cedric, if he hadn’t died…

Anyway, I had always admired her. I wanted to be her. And I may- MAY -have the tiniest, totally insignificant, doesn’t-even-really-matter, crush on her. I mean mostly I just think she’s you know, inspirational. Who wouldn’t? And it doesn’t hurt that she’s got a nice face. Plus, Emma Watson is like SUPER into activism and-

Well, the point is I had always wanted to be her.

And as I reached out and dragged my marker across the frosted glass, I finally felt like I was.

And I wished I didn’t.

Because I felt like Hermione in the Prisoner of Azkaban. The one where she’s taking like a ton of classes because McGonagall gave her a time turner. So, she can be in all her classes at the same time.

That’s how my days felt. Like I was living the same hour over and over. And each day felt like I had already lived it, and I was watching myself do it over again. It felt like someone was twisting a time turner on me every hour and every night before I went to bed.

It was excruciating.

There were times when I felt like I didn’t know if I could get through the day. There were times when the idea of living through the next hour was too much to comprehend. I felt like if I had to endure one more minute I might explode.

I didn’t, of course. Time did go forward; there were no time turners in this universe. And each day that went by, I lost a little of myself. Each time I drew a tally mark on that frosted glass, it was almost like I could feel it being carved into my chest. Like the drag against the glass also tore against the flesh of my chest wall. Some nights it would hurt so bad I would lift my shirt and run my hands over my aching ribs, just to be sure that I hadn’t actually cut my skin. I would be surprised to find smooth, unmarred skin, expecting to find severed flesh.

But I still felt the echo of the scars the next morning. I could feel them throb all day until it came time to make my next mark, and the pain would erupt again, like opening an old wound.

Over and over again, I reopened the gashes on my chest. Night after night, I came back with bloodshot eyes and an aching neck and I would rip off the scab once again.

I did this hundreds of times, and eventually it became harder and harder to make that mark. To tear open that wound again. And I realized it had begun to scar over. The skin toughening against the daily abuse, and I was becoming numb to the pain, the nerves damaged and fatigued from constant stimulation.

It was a relief in some ways. But it signified something that was untenable to me. Time was passing, and I was failing.

I was becoming numb and I needed to be alert. I needed to feel or else I couldn’t complete my task. And I knew this task was meant for me. The library had chosen me, for whatever reason, and I had to find out why.

But with each passing day, I felt my mind start to fog over more and more. It was becoming difficult to concentrate. I began to make mistakes. And my weekly video calls showed an increasingly concerned Laf when they caught them. I was missing the obvious, unable to make simple connections. My mind would just go blank. I would be attempting to retrieve a memory and all of a sudden, I would just find emptiness. I would look up at Laf and suddenly not remember what I was talking about. Occasionally, dropping off even mid-sentence.

Laf had been telling me for the last two years give up and try to find my way back to Silas. They thought it was a lost cause. That the library was just a freak of nature and I was wasting my life getting caught up in it.

There were times when I craved human contact so much, I considered just walking out the door and running until I found someone. Anyone. And never looking back.

But the library always dropped me in remote places or abandoned places, far from human habitation. And a tiny voice in my head, although muffled at times, still told me I needed to stick with it.

I really needed someone to throw a rock at my head and just get this plot to move forward, like Hermione did to save them from being discovered at Hagrid’s.

But it never came. And I would lie in my bed at night and pray to who ever was listening. I would write it down in my journal to document it. Because throwing words out in the air felt empty and I wanted whoever was listening to have something they could refer to if they forgot. I wanted a record of my pleading. Because I needed to know they heard me. I needed to know that time was going by, that I had truly been pleading every night.

I needed a record of the injustice. I didn’t know why, it’s not like I could do anything about it.

It just felt like I needed to build a case. Like I needed to gather the evidence so I could point to it and say, “I did everything I could, and you still didn’t give me what I deserved.”

But there was no court to which I could raise my complaint. I was alone and no one was going to help me.

No one was coming to save me.

* * *

_Date: 7/5/2020_

_Time: 02:38am_

_Location: Head Librarian’s Office, Silas University Library, unknown location off-campus_

_Recorder: Laura Eileen Hollis_

_To anyone listening:_

_Will you tell me it’s over?_

_Tell me._

_Tell me it’s over._

_Tell me this is the last night. The last time I have to do this._

_Tell me it’s the end of an era. The end of a lifetime. The end of an arc._

_Tell me this will be the last time I go searching. It’s the last time my legs carrying me forward because it hurts too much to stay still. Tell me it’s the last night I look up at the night sky and wonder if I will ever be okay. If I’ll ever get to a point where I won’t have to fight for every freaking breath. That I have to scratch and claw just to make it through the day._

_Tell me this is the last day I will wonder how I will calm the demons in my mind long enough to let sleep take me. Tell me this is the last night I don’t dread going to sleep. Because it means I’ll have to face another day and I don’t know if I can._

_Tell me this is the last time I feel my mind being split in two. The last time I feel like I may truly lose my sanity. Tell me it’s the last night I walk to find a quiet place to talk, throwing my words out into the cold stagnant air only be answered with silence. The last time I feel like I can’t go back to my room. Like I’m stuck out there and the thought of going back to my life makes it feel like my ribs are about to collapse._

_Tell me this is the last night I beg. The last night I whisper please like prayer and a reflex, over and over until it ceases to have meaning._

_Tell me I don’t have to do this anymore. Not because I can’t, but because I hate it. Because every day that passes, the splinters in my chest crack just a little wider._

_Tell me I won’t be wasted._

_Tell me something’s coming._

_Tell me to bide my time._

_Tell me to prepare._

_Just don’t tell me this is how it will always be._

_Don’t tell me this is all there is._

_Tell me it’s over._

_Tell me._

_Please._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went back into one of my journals and looked at one of my entries during a really hard time of my life and just tweaked it to fit Laura and her voice. So this chapter is pretty personal but if felt good to write. 
> 
> If you're going through something like this, please know that it will end one day. I know people say that all the time but it's the truth. I have a little monologue about this planned for Carm to say to help Laura with this, but it basically summarizes to:  
> time goes on. whether you like it or not. The sun will always rise the next day, no matter what. and that's a good thing because that means it's a new day and even though sometimes it feels like you're stuck in a rut, one day you can look back in a month or a year or several years and realize how far you've come. You can always count on time. (one of my life mottos btw) Got this philosophy partially from Cheryl Strayed's book, "Wild" it's a great read. 
> 
> Anyway if you wanna discuss in the comments, feel free to tell me I'm a genius or I'm full of shit or whatever. I like discussing these things because I know talking about it helped me at many points in my life!
> 
> Until next time Creampuffs!


	11. Walking in Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragic backstory
> 
> A revelation
> 
> also cuddles...and other stuff feat. the one and only RBG
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I studied ALL DAY and decided to sit down and write just a little bit annnnddddd this came out. Only took me 45 min or so to write so don't worry I'm still on track to nail this exam on Tuesday.
> 
> Get ready for some PLOT. 
> 
> ****some themes of depression, some sexual references****
> 
> Also thanks for the kudos and comments. They make my day! And like a few hundred hits so that's cool. Is it just 10 of you opening and reopening the page over and over? lol either way maybe people like this? Idk I hope so. I'm having a BLAST so it's just extra if other people enjoy it.
> 
> Lemme know what you think!

* * *

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes  
No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight  
So deep in the swirl with the most familiar swine  
For reasons wretched and divine

She blows out of nowhere, roman candle of the wild  
Laughing away through my feeble disguise  
No other version of me I would rather to be tonight  
Lord she found me just in time

-Hozier, "Jackie and Wilson"

* * *

You lay there, caressing each other and occasionally locking lips lazily until the sun has fully risen and you hear the sounds of traffic and morning commotion wafting through the window. It suddenly occurs to you that you haven’t been interrupted by an exploding door and an obnoxious ginger for several hours and you think it might be a miracle.

“Hey Cupcake.”

She hums in answer and you feel the vibrations tickle your cheek where it rests on her chest.

“Why have we not been interrupted by the ginger parade and the frat boy?”

She chuckles lightly but you can tell there’s tension underlying the sound.

“Well, Laf went to be with Perry at the infirmary. They probably went back to Perry’s place after, it’s closer and Perry doesn’t it like it here.”

You glance around the small studio apartment and you nod. Just about every surface is covered with some tool or gadget, unfinished projects or papers with notes scribbles on them. Susie Homemaker might combust on the spot if she saw this mess.

You had completely forgotten about the tears of blood incident earlier, having been so focused on finding Laura and then, well kissing Laura.

You feel yourself tense up and you try to shift slightly to hide it. You knew exactly what was wrong with Perry, but you weren’t sure if Laura did too.

“Laura-“

“I know.” She cuts you off. You lift your head to find tight eyes and a strained smile.

“I read your notes. I hadn’t put it together until I got home last night.”

Her finger comes up to idly trace your brow and her eyes follow it.

“The god. He- or it’s warning us isn’t it.”

She murmurs. You nod and you have to keep a proud smile off your face at her figuring it out so quickly. You had thought it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. You had dealt with several gods over the years, and you could tell this one wouldn’t care for a bunch of college grads meddling in its business. 

Her fingers fall from your face to trace the collar of your shirt at the base of your neck. She’s avoiding your eyes and her brows scrunch together like she’s concentrating on something.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks evenly. You search her face but it’s blank. She’s hiding something behind that mask, and you wish she would let you see instead of covering it up. But you know you’ve hurt her, and you have to earn the right to see her in that vulnerability.

“Yes, cupcake. What do you want to know?”

Her fingers run along the collar of your shirt, rhythmically back and forth, her fingers occasionally brushing feather light against your skin. Her eyes follow them back and forth and she waits a bit before answering, gathering her thoughts. You want to take her hand and kiss each of those fingertips and tell her it’s okay, but you know you don’t need to. This is Laura. She can handle this. And she deserves the space to do it on her own.

“Can you tell me about the girls?” Her voice is measured and even. You can tell carefully crafted the tone of her question. It lacks judgement but does not lack care or sincerity. It’s clinical and information seeking, but you can feel her affection in the way she strokes your collar. She’s left it open for you to answer this question however you want. She knows this subject is difficult for you. She may even know to some extent just how much this subject has haunted you through the years. How much thinking about those girls makes it difficult for you to want to keep breathing.

“What about them?” You ask just as evenly. You keep your voice soft, so she knows you’re not offended by her question. You’ve already given her everything. You want her to see you. All of you.

“I just- “ she stops, licking her lips and taking a breath. Her eyes still bounce back and forth slowly, trailing the path of her fingers.

“Like you always ask me if I’m okay. Or like ask me permission. Or like you let me meet you halfway.”

You see a light blush rising in her cheeks. The furrow in her brow deepens and her jaw clenches as if she’s trying to fight the creeping blush off. You’re not quite sure what she’s rambling about, so you just stay quiet to prompt her to continue.

“I just have a hard time…reconciling you with…with them. Like you’re so- you’re so careful- no respectful and…deliberate with me. Physically. And it’s just hard to imagine you, you know, being all rawr and vampire-y with them…in that way.”

You hum in understanding because you know now what she’s trying to ask. You let the silence fill the air for a minute to make sure she’s finished what she wants to say.

You know as much of a feminist that she is, and as much as she can wax poetic about women and their sexual freedom, talking about sex when it’s about her personally is hard for her. You know because even the mildest innuendo makes her turn beet red and anytime Hermione is brought up you think she might spontaneously combust. After centuries on this earth, you had shed any shame when it came to sex. But you understand her trepidation. You remember being young once, and you don’t think any less of her for it.

“Hmmm yes those girls. All those innocent girls.” You murmur and her eyes snap to yours when she remembers the last time you said those words. But when she finds you smiling her face relaxes and she smiles back sheepishly.

“I can see why you might be confused. I tend to give of mixed signals.”

She scoffs and mutters something like “understatement of the century” but you ignore her and continue.

“I like my women enthusiastic and consenting, creampuff.”

Her eyes go wide the blush finally reaches her hairline and it’s a beautiful crimson.

“No no no. Oh my god I didn’t mean-“

You lean forward and plant a quick kiss on her lips to interrupt her. When you pull back after a second, she looks so guilty that you lean in again for a sweeter, lingering kiss. You wait until she starts kissing back before you pull away again. She looks slightly less mortified, but no less red.

“It’s okay. I know what you meant. But it’s worth saying out loud. The way I talked about it wasn’t clear. And I want you to know that.”

She nods and lets her fingers hook into your collar and drag slightly down your chest, exposing your collarbone. She slowly snakes her hand underneath before stopping. She looks up at you and you know what she’s asking. So, you give her a small smile and nod. Her palm comes to rest right over your heart. If you had a heartbeat it would be hammering against her fingers. You thank the universe again you don’t have one because good god the side of her hand is just grazing your breast and it’s making it hard to concentrate.

But it feels so good to be touched this way by someone. By Laura. Not just in the sexual sense, but just in the skin-to-skin connection. It has been so long since you had anything close to that. And as you feel your cool skin warming to her hand, you feel a knot in your gut unravel.

“I know. I do. You’re more respectful than anyone I’ve ever been with.”

You frown because you don’t like thinking about her other significant others. You know she must have had a few. She’s beautiful and loves so fiercely. Your frown deepens and anger swirls in your gut.

“What do you mean? Has- did someone-“She cuts you off bringing the hand on your chest up to your cheek.

“No, no nothing like that. I promise. It’s just I haven’t always felt so comfortable with someone. Physically. Like I always feel like I can say no to you, and you won’t get mad. Or like when you touch me it doesn’t feel like you’re demanding something from me. Like I don’t feel obligated to do anything. I can just be with you.”

You sit up entirely and bring her up to sit with you. She sits perpendicular to you, her legs bent over yours.

“Laura, that should be a given. You should NEVER feel obligated. You should NEVER feel like I’ll get mad if you say no. Who made you feel that way?”

She just shakes her head and begins to say something, but you interrupt her.

“No. Laura, I want to know who it was.”

Fire is pooling in your belly and you feel your fangs descending. You need a name so you can deal with this. Anyone who made Laura feel this way deserves to have their insides torn out and shown to them. Or maybe each of their fingers snapped off one by one. Or even each joint dislocated starting with each toe and then all the way up their-

Your thoughts are interrupted when her hands come up and cup both sides of your face. Her thumbs stroke your cheeks once before settling on your top lip. She lifts your lip gently and you can feel the cool air on your fangs.

She takes one thumb and presses it gently against one of them. You flinch involuntarily. Your fangs are by far the most sensitive part of your body and having her touch them was overwhelming to say the least. She freezes and her eyes flick to yours. You lean back into her hand to tell her you’re okay. Her other thumb caresses your other fang gently. You feel the anger begin to uncoil in your gut as you look into her eyes. She sees this and smiles. It’s your smile.

“I know you were just planning my ex’s gruesome torture and murder in unnecessarily graphic detail just now, but please, I don’t want you to feel that way.”

You deflate and feel most of your anger float away. You still feel some linger in your bones. But it’s just the pain you feel for her. It’s the pain you feel at her having not had what she deserved.

You feel your fangs slowly retract and one thumb comes to rest on you lower lip, while the other hand comes down to rest on your thigh.

“I never did anything I didn’t want to. It was just the way I felt. The dynamic between me and them. It wasn’t right and that’s why I’m not with them anymore.”

You let out a sigh and nod into her hand.

“And you don’t have to go defending my honor. I can do that myself thank you very much.” She quips.

You smirk against her thumb.

“Oh, I know you can. It’s not about protecting your honor so much as letting them know just how…inadequate they are.”

She rolls her eyes in the back of her head and you bite the pad of her thumb playfully in retaliation. Your smirk threatens to stretch into an idiotic grin, but you keep it locked it place.

“What compared to you? Full of yourself much?” Her eyebrows raise and she’s fighting a grin too.

You tilt your head and feign like you’re deep in thought.

“Hmmm, maybe. But-“You lean into her and let your lips graze her skin from the base of her throat to just below her ear. You breathe hotly against her ear for a moment and revel in the way her heartrate quickens and goosebumps ripple across her skin. The hand that had been cupping your face threads through your hair and pulls you towards her slightly. You feel her fingers on your thigh clench in anticipation.

“I have you and they don’t.” Your lips graze the shell of her ear as you speak. “I think I have a right to feel superior.”

Her face turns into you and you feel her lips caressing your ear now.

“Oh, do you now? Sounding a little possessive there, Karnstein. Is that a vampire thing? Or is that just a _you_ thing?”

Hearing your surname on her lips makes you shudder. But as you comprehend the meaning behind her words, you stop and pull back to look into her eyes.

“No, Laura I didn’t mean it like that. I could never ever presume to own you. In any way. That’s one of the things I love most about you. You couldn’t ever be owned by anyone, because you won’t allow it. But- But at the same time you have this smile that feels like it belongs to me and me only.”

She smiles and you run your thumb over her lips.

“Yeah that one. And you have this way of saying hi to me, and-and- it feels like it’s our secret. Like you chose me to carry it for you. And sometimes I feel like-like-“

She leans forward and kisses you sweetly.

“I know.” Her lips brush against yours as she speaks. You let your eyes flutter closed and revel in the way her lips feel on yours. Your hand comes up to brush against her stomach and your fingers clutch the fabric of her shirt gently.

“And that’s one of the things I love most about you. You believe in me. I can tell because even when I’m struggling with something, you just let me for a minute because you know I can figure it out. But I know you would catch me if I needed it. But at the same time, you give me this look. And it’s like you’re laying yourself out for me to see everything, like you’re just surrendering yourself to me.”

You open your eyes and find her smoldering coals so close to yours. She presses her forehead to yours.

“Yeah that one. Or you call me cupcake, or some other edible pastry and you say it like you’re offering me something. And it makes me feel like you’re mine too.”

You’re a bit breathless now. And you can tell she is too. You bring your lips softly to hers, caressing gently. As your lips move slowly against each other, two words are running through your head like a prayer.

She knows.

She knows.

She knows.

And suddenly she presses against you firmly, and parts her mouth against yours. You respond in kind but then you feel the tip of her tongue graze your lip and you feel a jolt through your chest. You return the favor and her fingers grip your thigh tighter. You’re dizzy and whirling and you think you might’ve forgotten how to do this because it has never felt like this. Sure, you’d had countless lovers before. Some you thought you might have felt something for. But you’d never had this. This intimacy. This feeling like you’re flying and rooted to the earth at the same time. Not even with Her.

You’re desperate because you need an anchor and you need to be cut free at the same time and it’s splitting you in two. You think she knows this because the next time your mouth parts so you can caress her lip with your tongue her tongue comes out at the same time. When your tongues meet you feel a cross between a whimper and a growl escape your throat.

She knows.

She knows.

She knows.

Your chest squeezes and suddenly you need to feel her as deep as you can. She must be as desperate as you because she places a hand on your chest and you feel yourself leaning back as she lays on top of you, your mouths never separating. At this angle, she uses her weight to press into you and your tongues are dancing with each other and you can’t tell what you want more: to devour her or her to devour you.

She maneuvers so your legs are framing her hips and when she presses you into the mattress and curls her tongue to the roof of your mouth you’re not whirling anymore.

You feel solid and still and anchored to Laura. 

You can feel her steady heart racing and her breathing is becoming heavier by the second and you know you’re no different. You let your still blunt teeth take her bottom lip, bite down firmly and pull. Her breath hitches and you feel her hips jerk forward reflexively into you and the pressure makes both of you groan quietly.

And then you feel the familiar ache in your gums and even though your inner predator is demanding that you take from her what you desire, you don’t want to do this now. Not like this. You still have things you need to show her before she goes any further. She deserves to know everything before you go down this road. And you still need to prove it to her.

You remove your hands from where they had been clenching her waist and place them on her shoulders, pushing lightly. She pulls back immediately and looks at you worried. Her lips are swollen and damp, and her cheeks are flushed beautifully.

You don’t realize how breathless you were until you try to speak.

“It’s. Okay.” You say between breaths. You lean up and give her a peck on her chin. Trying to gather your scattered thoughts and think about something other than the way she feels pressing in between your legs.

“I just don’t want to go there right now.” She nods and gives you your smile. She scoots down and places a kiss on your sternum over your shirt and the rests her chin there looking at you.

“Okay.” She murmurs.

You smile at her because you’re so close to her and her honey eyes are burning so bright.

“I mean, I want to.” You run you hands under her the back of her shirt, letting your fingernails scrape firmly against her skin. Her eyelids flutter and you feel her squirm against you.

“I really fucking want to.” She chuckles and her smile widens even more to that goofy kid in the candy store grin.

“But I just can’t do it with the old lady watching.” You deadpan. She sits up slightly and looks at you like you’d just told her you’re hiding a third boob, but then you flick your eyes to where you can see the old lady’s eyes peeking out on her shirt just above where her chest is still flush against yours. She follows your eyes and then her forehead thumps against your chest and she groans.

“Oh my god, why do I put up with you.”

You poke her in the ribs, and she squirms against you, giggling despite herself. You go back to gently scratching up and down her back and she relaxes back down, resting her chin on the back of her hands on your sternum.

“No, but seriously. I never answered your question and you deserve to know.”

She just nods and looks at you, giving you space to say your peace. You take a deep breath, her head rising and falling slightly with your chest.

“I won’t lie. I did seduce dozens of girls for Mother. And many others for my own enjoyment. Mother had made a deal with a god in exchange for power or something of the like. The deal was that she procures a human sacrifice for this god every year.”

You pause, gauging her reaction. She’s just listening intently, her eyes searching your face.

“I don’t really know any more details. And to be honest, I didn’t really care. Mother had given me a deal in return. If I got the girls for her, she’d let me do whatever I wanted otherwise.”

Her brows scrunch in confusion. And you take breath, considering exactly how to word this so she understands.

“You have to understand that when someone makes a vampire, as Mother made me, you’re bonded for eternity. It’s sort of…metaphysical? I don’t know. But I’m essentially obligated to her to pretty much do whatever she wants me to. Does that make sense?”

She’s chewing on her cheek and the furrow in her brow deepens.

“So, like if she tells you to do something and you don’t want to do it, can you say no? Or is it like you become a zombie and you do it anyway?”

You chuckle.

“No, it’s more like her wants become my wants. Even if I consciously think I don’t want to, there’s just this….need to do it anyway.”

She nods and you can tell she’s trying to understand but you don’t think you can ever fully describe the weight of that feeling. The weight of obligation.

“I mean, I said this before. I was fine with it. I got to be with a girl, and then have a good meal. It’s hard to discretely feed on humans without calling attention to yourself. Mother took care of the logistics for me. The cover-up, things like that. So, I thought was getting a good deal.”

She nods and you’re looking for any dismay in her features but she’s just listening to you. She’s open and transparent and just accepting what you give her.

“And like I said, I have no taste for non-consensual sex. Many vampires do.” You look at her wearily. You’re not sure how she’ll take this next part, since she’s literally in between your legs right now and her face is still flushed from the kissing earlier.

But this is Laura. So, you continue.

“Sex and feeding are closely linked for vampires. They sort of activate the same pathways. It’s sometimes hard to separate the two feelings, and most vampires don’t try.”

She hasn’t moved or reacted to your words, and you think if you had a heartbeat it would be racing right now. You feel so open and exposed. This is the part of you that you hate the most about yourself.

“But I did. I always told the women I was with what I was and what I expected from them. I gave them a choice. Some chose to run. Which in those cases, I accepted and moved on to someone else. But a surprising amount of them stayed. I don’t really know why, the thrill maybe? Or maybe a kink? Whatever the reason, I didn’t care. I just got what I wanted, and Mother got what she wanted, and everything was fine.”

You take a breath and it comes out shaky. You’re not sure exactly what you’re feeling, but the only thing keeping you from bolting out of the room is the look in her eyes.

“And then I- then I met Elle.” You haven’t said her name in over a century and the sound of her name in the air makes you feel hollowed out. Like someone scraped out your insides.

“And this time, it wasn’t a one-night stand. It wasn’t a fuck and feed. I fell for her. And she fell for me.”

You take another shaky breath. Laura just lies there, breathing evenly and taking you in.

“And for the first time, I didn’t want to turn her over to Mother. So, I planned to run away with her to America. I thought maybe I could avoid Mother for the duration of her human life, and then face her after she died. Mother had been so lenient with exerting her bond over me thus far, so I didn’t see any reason why she wouldn’t let me have a few decades to myself. Mother is thousands of years old. The duration of a human life is a blink of an eye to her.”

You can feel your throat closing off as you think about how this story ends. You haven’t spoken or even let yourself think about what happened all those years ago since you came out of the earth on the battlefield. You try to force the words out.

“But- But- I,” and there’s no air in your lungs left and your mouth is gaping open and closed like a fish out of water. You’re choking on your words and you look at Laura because you need her to keep you from drowning.

She plants a soft kiss on your sternum and reaches out and takes one of your hands in hers. She traces circles on your palm and waits for you to continue.

You suck in a breath and focus on the feeling of her thumb tickling your palm. And finally, you feel like you’re able to continue.

“But I was wrong. Mother caught wind of my plans, and the night before we were to leave for America, she took Elle and turned her.”

You remember that morning, rushing to Elle’s room and seeing it empty. Thinking she had decided not to come with you. But you had found a single white rose on her pillow, and you knew then what had happened.

“I was devastated. And angry. And desperate. I went on a killing spree. The thrill of the hunt was the only thing that sustained me. And the power I exerted over them made me feel a little less powerless, a little less pathetic. Because I felt like Mother had taken my life away, my free will. I don’t know how long it was before I came up for air.”

“Finally, Mother caught up with me. It must have been a decade or so later. She said she’d let me have my fun and now it was time for my punishment.”

You close your eyes and focus on Laura’s breathing. Even and full. Steady in and out. You could feel her heartbeat gently against your stomach where her chest rests.

“Elle was hers. And she hated me. Because I was the cause of her death. Mother had manipulated her to convince her it was my plan all along. And when I went on a decade long rampage, Mother used that as evidence of my callousness. But she wasn’t wrong. She was dead because of me. I did indiscriminately torture and murder hundreds of people.”

You take another breath. You can see that night playing before your eyes like a movie.

“My punishment was simple: I was to be interred in a coffin filled with blood for the rest of my undead life. Elle dug the grave.”

You feel Laura take a deep breath and her hand squeeze yours tightly. You can see anger and frustration pass over her face. And then it settles on pain.

“I spent over a century under the earth. And I emerged when the bombs of the Great War opened the earth. I was insane.”

This part was easier to talk about. You had been living that reality just weeks ago.

“I dissociated. I surrendered to the predator. I relinquished my humanity. I floated for decades, only feeding when I needed to. I must have walked in circles though, because I walked for decades but somehow, I’m still in Europe.”

She chuckles and your heart squeezes. You got through the worst of it and she’s still here.

She knows.

“And then I met you.”

You say simply. She gives you your smile and you could swear you feel the ghost of a racing heartbeat in your chest.

And then her face goes blank and your stomach drops. Was it finally too much for her?

“Carm.” She says evenly. Like she’s about to ask you what time it is.

“I think I know what the fish wants.” Your brow furrows.

“What?”

Her eyes are wide, and her face has gone completely white, the blood draining from her face. Her body is tense against yours where before it had molded softly against you.

“It wants you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was me trying to make a PSA about consent. Couldn't get through this fic without it.
> 
> anyway some Carm backstory in there. little tweak from canon Carmilla. I have PLANZZZ for this plot. *laughs evilly* I had an idea for the ending of this fic and y'all ARE NOT ready for it.
> 
> anyway, I was able to do Hollstein fluff and plot so that's nice.
> 
> I'm excited for more plot to be revealed! I'm unnecessarily proud of myself for the plot I cooked up. I've got major events and broad strokes planned out but not sure exactly how we'll get there but I promise it will be DRAMATIC. and I have plans to make this a series so maybe this will never end idk lol.
> 
> Also I reread some other chapters and I have SOOOO many typos lol. Like I said feat instead of feet? lol how did y'all not tear me apart in the comments for that one. y'all are too nice. Will I fix them? prob not. I think it gives it character. Also I'm lazy.


	12. Because They're a Part of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLOT
> 
> A date
> 
> Laura and Carm have a heart to heart
> 
> Also there's kissing
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooo. Guess who passed her exam! Whoo yeah. So, after my exam this morning I went to the beach for a few hours and cranked this puppy out. Very excited to see what y'all think about this.
> 
> ***serious depression and description of suicidal thoughts, some slightly more explicit but still clothed sexual content****
> 
> Here's a whopping 9.2k of me destressing from my exam!

* * *

A tunnel with no end  
Here it comes again  
A slowly creeping feeling  
My old familiar friend

A voice without a name  
Ringing in my head  
The more that I believe it  
I feel like giving in

Don't hold back  
Just keep it rollin'  
Down that track  
Even when you  
Fear you can't  
You need someone to lean on  
When you're going round the bend

-Bob Moses, "Don't Hold Back"

* * *

You’re used to feeling like an outsider. Three centuries living as an undead creature of the night will do that to you. But as you sit in your chair at the “war table” (the scientist had dubbed the table this, which they had gathered around every day for research. It seemed hopelessly overdramatic to you, but it seemed to give the group a feeling of purpose and urgency), you can’t help but notice how stark the contrast is between you and the gang. You are the outsider. And that’s been your role for as long as you can remember. Even when you were human. Although those memories are dark and fuzzy, you remember never fitting in with the other debutantes’ daughters who frequented the Karnstein Estate.

The scene before you now is similar. You and those girls used to sit around an ornate dinner table, under a dazzling chandelier, sipping wine through tight lips and smiles that were all red stained teeth. You’d sit there in silence mostly, while the chattered on ad nauseum about the latest gossip of who was having an affair with whom and traded thinly veiled insults and fake flattery. You would occasionally chip in, making some sarcastic comment or vulgar innuendo. You were always met with scolding looks and off-hand comments about women who couldn’t keep their mouth closed must also have trouble keeping other things closed.

This time, it wasn’t a group of stuck-up heiresses who gave you derisive glares, it was a group of idiotic college grads.

You found yourself in constant need to be touching Laura in some way. You felt a little unmoored after this morning. So much had been said, and you had laid yourself bare before her. She had accepted you, and when you finally dragged yourself out of the warmth of the blankets, she gave you a fervent kiss on the way out of the door. She didn’t say anything, but you could feel the thank you in the way her lips pressed firmly against yours.

But you still felt shaky, like your legs might give out any second. But so far you hadn’t crumbled into a heap of jitters.

Laura had called an emergency meeting with the gang, Curly Sue having since recovered since the tears of blood incident. You all sat around the table and you found yourself unable to keep yourself from touching her. It was like a reflex. Like you are teetering on an edge and in that in-between moment, where you’re just about to fall. But every time you felt yourself start to free fall, you hand snapped out and found her skin. Her shoulder, her hand, her thigh, her ankle where it was propped against her knee. It anchored you, and you felt yourself grounded and steady once more. It was involuntary and your eyes would automatically snap to her in apology, but she would just shift so you could have better access to her skin and continue her conversation with her family.

While Laura spent most of the afternoon filling in everyone about the newest developments, you sat next to her silently, just focusing on not falling off the tight wire you were teetering precariously on. After around the tenth time your hand flew out and scrambled against her skin, she scooted her chair flush against yours and you felt her fingers sneak beneath the rip in your jeans on your thigh. She grabbed the fabric, the back of her knuckles pressing against your skin and left it there. Your body deflated and you relaxed into your seat. When the scientist went off on a tangent about one of their theories, she turned to you and placed a kiss just under your ear. You turned to her and gave her a shaky smile, and she smiled softly in return.

Laura had been trying to explain to them how she knew what she knew without divulging anything about you, and what you told her this morning. But the gang wasn’t buying it.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell us how you know, Laura. I mean I don’t like our resident vamp here either but that doesn’t mean some all-powerful fish god wants to kill her too.”

Laf is getting agitated, and you can tell they aren’t going to let up until they get an answer.

You take Laura’s hand still tucked into your thigh and intertwine your fingers on your lap. You need to tell them otherwise Laura would get the brunt of the blowback. You are responsible for this mess, and you wouldn’t let Laura carry that for you. She has enough to carry around.

“Stop. The cupcake is just trying to protect my confidence. If you’re gonna take out your frustration on anyone, it should be me.”

Five pairs of wide eyes glare at you in surprise. You find honey brown ones and you see a worry there. You lift your hands up to your lips and place a kiss. Her eyes crinkle almost imperceptibly, and you think you see pride there.

“The person who created me made a deal with a god. She used to me to deliver on that deal. Around a century ago I refused. I was punished for my transgression and was sentenced to interment in the ground for eternity. I escaped my confinement during the first world war, and I assumed I was free from that obligation. Laura thinks that this god has come to collect on the debt I owe to it.”

The gang looks at each other warily. It’s Curly Sue who speaks up.

“What do you owe it? What was the deal?”

You take a deep breath. You already told Laura, but telling her friends was almost as nerve-wracking.

“The god required an annual human sacrifice, to be specially prepared by my Mother. For decades, I acted as the lure and procured the sacrifices for her.”

The scientist is the one who puts it together first.

“It wants _you_ in payment for the last hundred years of sacrifices you never gave it.”

You nod and clench your jaw.

“That’s our theory at the moment, yes.”

Clifford scoffs derisively and leans back in her seat.

“How do you know this god and your god are the same? Aren’t there like, thousands of gods?”

It’s Laura who answers for you. You’ve expended everything you have retelling your story just now, and you don’t think you can say any more. You squeeze her hand in gratitude.

“Because every one of these books and papers are talking about a deal made. Sometimes the translation is a bit off, which is why I think it took us so long to figure it out. Some say judgement, some say transaction, some say retribution, payment, exchange. It all points to the same thing.”

Xena still shakes her head and fires back.

“But how do you know this has to do with Dracula specifically. People make deals with Gods all the time.”

You speak up now, because you know it should come from you.

Your eyes find the scientist’s because you know they were the closest to making the connection from what you’ve seen of their notes.

“I was born Mircalla Karnstein, in 1680 I died at a ball when I was 18 years old at the Karnstein estate here in Styria. My mother, Lilita, created me and I was bound by her covenant with the god.”

Laf’s eyes bulged and they ran over to their crime wall. They ripped a paper off the wall and slammed it on the table in front if you.

“Mircalla? You mean,” they tilt their head to read a quote they’d lifted from a text.” Mircalla, the servant of the great kraken? Or Marcilla, the light bearer? Or Claralim, dark heiress to the light god of the sea?”

They pause and you look down at your hands in Laura’s. You feel yourself starting to quake and you don’t know if she’ll be there to catch you this time.

“Oh no, sorry. It’s just Carmilla, the magnificent asshole.” They spit.

You clench your jaw and force the bile back down your throat. You deserve their anger. You put them in this danger because of how you feel about Laura. You feel yourself spiraling and you know you’re squeezing the life out of Laura’s hand, but you can’t seem to loosen your grip.

“Back off, Laf.” You hear her say quietly. But your ears are ringing, and it sounds like it’s coming from far away.

You hear more voices swirl around you, but you’re whirling and all you can hear is a buzzing in your brain. You bit off more than you can chew. You gave yourself to Laura this morning, told her the things you hate most about yourself, and you hadn’t recovered before all those things were being flung out for everyone to see yet again.

Finally, you hear her voice sift through the static.

“Carm. You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s just me.”

Suddenly, you see her honey brown eyes and you’re drowning, and you don’t know if you can find your way back to the surface.

“Carm. Tell me three things I do that annoy you.”

You feel your brow furrow. Her words don’t compute in your brain. You hear the words, but they sound like a foreign language.

“Here, I’ll start. Your feet are always ice cold and when you lay next to me. They feel like ice cubes on my legs.”

You feel your lips twitch, but you still can’t breathe and your eyes dart around her face frantically, trying to find purchase.

“Come on, I know I drive you up the wall. There’s got to be something. Focus.”

You close your eyes and reach back, trying to ignore your buzzing brain and the tingling in your face.

“I- I don’t. I can’t-“

“Okay, I’ll do another one. Your boots are always untied, and I just want you to trip over them and break your neck just to teach you a lesson about safety.”

You feel your breath starting to move from desperate gasps to shaky sobs.

“When- when you drink cocoa, you p-put your pinky up like a f-f-fucking prin-cess.” You say between sobs. She smiles your smile and suddenly you can feel the pressure of her hand on your cheek and a thumb stroking your lower lip.

“When you b-blow your nose you make the bi-biggest honking noise for no g-godamn re-reason.” Her smile falls and your shaky fingers come up to graze the exaggerated pout on her lips.

“And-and when you rub your eyes when you’re t-tired, it makes a squishing s-sound and it drives me c-crazy.” And the tingling is gone, and you feel like you’re getting air into your lungs again. You feel her thumbs rub across your cheeks and you realize you have tears streaming down your face.

“And the way you put on lotion is f-fucking weird.” Her pout deepens and it makes you smile shakily.

“Okay jeez, I only asked you for three.” She says and even though you’re still hiccupping occasionally you feel like you’ve returned to yourself. Her thumbs wipe the tears off your face again and you close your eyes, relaxing into her hand.

“I’m s-.”

“Don’t you dare.” She says. You just nod weakly and then you feel yourself being tugged forward. Your face falls into her neck and you settle into the familiar spot with you lips on her pulse.




You must have drifted off, because you wake up briefly when you feel Laura gently nudge you. You’re still groggy and your eyes are dry from crying, so you stumble with her to the office and she lays you down in the blankets. She settles behind you, her front to your back, and you fall back to sleep with the feeling of her small breathes tickling the hairs on the back of your neck and her hand on your stomach.

When the morning comes, you know immediately that you’re alone. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and look at the space next to you. You see a note on the pillow.

_Didn’t want to wake you. Come join us in the lounge. -Cupcake_

_P.S. you’re cute when you sleep_

You roll your eyes and grumble at the word “cute”, but can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You run your hand over the blankets where you can see the imprint of her body. It’s cold, so she must have left a while ago.

You’re a little embarrassed about yesterday. It feels like you’re always falling apart and she’s always there for you. It’s Laura, so you know she would never hold it against you. But you feel like maybe she’s always the one taking care of people. People naturally look to her for leadership and strength, and she fulfills that role well. But you remember the bewildered look on her face when you found her in Laf’s apartment. How in the morning, she couldn’t believe that you stayed. You wonder, when was the last time someone asked her if she was okay. When was the last time someone put aside their own shit and just focused on her?

You take her note and stuff it in your back pocket before making your way to the lounge, quickly running your hand through your sleep mussed hair. You hear her heartbeat and it makes you smile, but then you hear hushed voices and you stop just before you turn the corner, straining your ears to listen.

“Laura, you know I love you. I’m just worried about you.”

It’s the curly-haired one. You hadn’t really heard her speak very much, other than to admonish someone for spilling something or to cheerily announce when her cookies were ready. Her voice is soft and has a maternal edge to it.

You hear a frustrated huff.

“I know Perr. I just- sometimes I’m so motivated and Carm is-“You freeze when you hear your name. You wonder whether you should leave. You don’t exactly feel comfortable eavesdropping on this conversation, but you can’t seem to drag yourself away.

“She’s- I feel…good when I’m with her. But sometimes I just…I’m just so tired. And it’s crazy because for five years all I could think about was when I could see you guys again, and I was so lonely I didn’t know if I could-. And then I met her. And we’re back here and I thought it would-. I don’t know what I’m saying.” Your heart squeezes. You can hear the frustration and defeat in her voice.

“No, Laura I can see what you’re saying. It’s an adjustment. To go from being alone for years to now being constantly around everyone, and to be thrust into a relationship. And a complicated one with baggage at that.”

Your heart sinks. The ginger is right. And that’s why you’d fallen apart yesterday. You hate that you’re a burden on her.

“Yeah maybe. But Carm doesn’t feel like baggage. I mean sure we’ve got some stuff to work through and she’s got a crazy past, but I don’t mind. I think it’s just that I’ve been on this crusade for so long and I thought I’d get some relief when I figured it out. I guess I should’ve known there’d be more to it. I just had it in my head that once I figured it out it would be over. I’d run off into the sunset and everything would be right. That’s the thought that got me through the worst times. And now it just seems like it will never end.”

“I know sweetie. Listen, why don’t you take a few days off? We’ll keep researching, and let you know if we find anything interesting. Take Carmilla and just have a few days where you can just be.”

You hear the affection in her voice and once again you’re glad that Laura has her friends. You had wondered when the last time someone took care of her and you think maybe they had been taking care of her all along. The thought makes you smile. You had never had anything like that. Sure, you had Mattie, but your relationship with her was shaky at best, and consisted mostly of periodic bouts of lavish debauchery. Mattie is a lone wolf and a vagrant. She is a classic vampire, never committing to anything or anyone, leading a primarily hedonistic lifestyle unapologetically.

You hear a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, maybe I should. Thanks, Perr, it means a lot. I’ll ask Carm if she wants to.” You hear the sound of papers rustling, so you figure their conversation is over. You wait another minute or so, so you don’t seem suspicious before coming around the corner.

You come up behind her, sitting in her chair, bent over some dusty book.

“Hmmm, cupcake I’m surprised to see you here highlighting yet another dusty old book,” you’re right behind her now and you lean down so your lips are at her ear, ”instead of snuggling up with your nice warm-“

She turns her head, fighting a smile and your lips meet. You meant for it to be just a good morning peck on the lips, but the feel of her mouth on yours is suddenly intoxicating and you lean in firmly. Her hand comes up to thread through your hair and she deepens the kiss slightly. Your hand comes up to the back of her neck and you let your tongue dip into her mouth, and you feel her fingers twist in your hair tighter. It’s only been hours since you kissed her fully but _god,_ you’re surprised again at how good she tastes and soon you start considering pushing her back and straddling her lap, but she pulls back with a blushing face.

“Woah, there lady killer. PG-13 only while in the lounge.” Her eyes flick awkwardly to the red head who is studiously keeping her eyes on the book in front of her.

You smirk and place a lingering kiss below her ear and plop down on the chair next to her. You think that you might have to be more careful, because if she was going to kiss you like that in public you needed to be prepared so you didn’t forget where you were end up grinding on her in front of her friends. It’s just whenever you feel her tongue graze your lip, your mind gets a little fuzzy…and when her tongue strokes yours _god_ you forget everything entirely.

“PG-13, how incredibly dull.” You say glumly.

“Research now, smooching later.” She says brightly. You love to hear her so giddy, but you feel your lips purse as you remember her conversation with the ginger. You wish she wouldn’t hide herself from you. You feel a stab a jealousy at Perry. You want to be the one she can come to when she doesn’t know what to do. You shake that thought away, reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter who is there for Laura, as long as someone is.

“Laura. Didn’t you want to ask Carmilla something?” the ginger’s tone is innocent, but you can hear the maternal firmness. It’s amusing to you that Susie Homemaker nags Laura like a child, but you’re grateful if it means you get to spend some uninterrupted time with Laura.

“Oh yeah. Um, right so. Perry was- well I, I was thinking…” She trails off and her eyes are bouncing around everywhere but on yours and you feel your mouth curl into a smile because she’s so goddamn cute.

“Oh no, Creampuff that can’t be good.” You tease. Her eyes finally meet yours and you can see she’s let go of some of the tension. You let your smile widen and she smiles back at you.

“Shut up. Well, I was thinking I needed a day off. And I was wondering if you wanted to, like, you know, hang out?”

You reach out and take her hands where they’re wringing each other on her lap and lace your fingers together, swinging them playfully in the air between you.

“Cupcake, are you asking me on a date?” You want to give her your best smirk, but it’s coming out as an idiotic grin.

She bites her lip and her face blushes beautifully. You see her steel herself and her eyes settle firmly on yours and she’s burning.

“Yes, Ms. Karnstein. I am.”

You clear your throat because you feel a giggle bubbling up your throat and you’re not about to giggle about being asked on one date.

“I’ll accept your invitation on one condition.” You say as seriously as you can, but the smile on your face won’t budge.

“And what’s your condition?” She says just as seriously, you curse yourself because she’s much better at acting than you are. Her face is stern and business like and it’s hard to keep from kissing her right now.

“I want you to take back what you said about me being cute.”

Her face breaks and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh my god Carm, I knew you’d get hung up on that, you’re so predictable.”

You lean forward and drag your lips across her jaw and bring your lips to her ear, letting your breath tickle the sensitive skin there.

“I. am. not. cute. Do I need to prove it to you?” You suck her ear lobe between your lips before taking it between your teeth and tugging gently. Her breath hitches and her fingers squeeze yours tightly.

She pulls away and she’s crimson and the air is so thick between you that you think the only thing keeping you from tackling her to the ground and making out with her right there is the fact that you can hear Curly Sue shift uncomfortably across the table.

“Agree to disagree.” You’re inches away from each other and you pull back slightly before you do something stupid.

“So, where are you taking me Miss Hollis?”

Her eyes widen comically, and you chuckle.

“Uh, I didn’t think that far ahead.” She mumbles. You smirk at her.

“I have an idea.”




“Carm, I mean I’m all for a romantic hike and all, but my feet hurt and I kinda need to pee and-“

“Creampuff, are you going to whine the _whole_ way?”

She glares at you, and it only makes your smile grow wider.

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

You grab her hand and pull her to a stop. You wrap your arms around her lower back and her hands come up to your shoulders.

“Your feet hurt?” You ask.

She looks at you confused.

“Um, yeah I mean I’m wearing converse and we’re hiking through the woods and-“

You reach down and place you hands on the back of her thighs and hoist her up. She squeaks in surprise, her legs wrapping around your waist automatically to stabilize herself.

You give her a peck on the lips and smile at her bewildered face.

“Is this okay, cupcake?” You ask.

She looks down at where she’s wrapped around you and then back at you and you see a blush rising from her chest. Then she narrows her eyes at you menacingly.

“Yes. But for the record, I don’t need you to carry me. I’m perfectly capable of-“

You interrupt her with another kiss, this time you bite her lip playfully as you pull away.

“Yes, cupcake. I am perfectly aware you’re capable. I’m not doing this for you. It’s for me.”

“For you? What are you getting out of this?” She asks, eyes still narrowed suspiciously.

“I don’t have to hear you whine anymore.” She rolls her eyes but leans forward, wrapping her arms around your neck, and letting her forehead rest on your shoulder.

“I hate you.” She mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” You say and she just scoffs, and bites you on the shoulder playfully.

You plant a kiss on her temple and continue walking down the path.

Neither of you speaks, but it’s peaceful. You can feel her even breathes on your chest and her fingers are drawing patterns on the back of your neck. You’re trying not to think about the fact that you’ve literally got your hands on her ass and her body is flush against yours, but it’s difficult. So instead you focus on her heartbeat. You lean forward and rest your lips against the pulse point on her neck. You can feel it reverberate through your head and your senses are filled with the sound and nothing else.

It’s just you and Laura, her pulse against your lips, walking through the woods.

“Why do you always do that?” Her voice startles you a bit. It had been fifteen minutes or so without any sound besides her heartbeat and your boots against the ground.

“Do what?” Your lips brush against her skin as you speak, and you feel her twitch slightly.

She lifts her head to look at you. Her face is blank, except for mild curiosity.

“You always put your lips there. Even when you’re sleeping.”

Her eyes are so transparent and so close and suddenly you want her to know every secret you’ve ever had.

“Um. Well, that’s where your pulse is the strongest.”

She tilts her head, but her eyes crinkle in amusement.

“So, it’s a vampire thing?”

You’d be rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment right about now, but considering you’ve got a handful of Laura’s ass, you settle for looking over her shoulder, acting like you’re trying to see where you’re walking.

“Um, maybe, I don’t know. I just- I just like to feel it. There. It’s like I can feel it in my whole body. And it feels like…”

You’re struggling to find the words to describe the feeling you get when her pulse radiates through your body. You’d never really tried to label the feeling. You just instinctively sought it out.

“It feels like I have a heartbeat too. Like, I’m sort of alive. But it’s better cause it’s yours.” You furrow your brows and shake your head because your explanation is lame and pathetic and you’re extremely embarrassed, but you don’t know how else to describe it.

Then you feel soft lips on your forehead, then each cheek, then just grazing your lips. She pulls back and you see clear honey and cinnamon.

“Why are you embarrassed?” She asks. Her face holds no pity or condescension. She just wants to know.

You see no reason in hiding anything from her now. You’re in too deep and you made a promise all those weeks ago to try.

“I don’t know, I guess vampires are supposed to revel in their immortality. My sister Mattie does. She’s lived for a few thousand years and she’ll tell you she would die before she became mortal.”

Laura raises her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make sense, but the point is, she views mortality as vulnerability. Weakness. And vampires instinctually seek power and prestige. But even though I certainly enjoyed the darker parts of being a vampire for much of my life, I never liked the idea that I would live forever. It scared me.”

Laura’s eyes scan your face. You have no idea what your face looks like, but you let her examine you. The sound of your boots crunching in the gravel fills the air as you wait. When she’s done, she meets your eyes again.

She nods and you see a dark understanding in her face. You search her face as she did yours, and you know that she knows something about despair.

“Anyway. I guess I’m embarrassed because I’m not a very good vampire. Who wants to give up immortality and unlimited power? It’s like I won the lottery and want to give away the ticket.”

Her hand comes around and her thumb strokes your lips.

“You don’t believe that.” She says. You hold back a frustrated sigh because this girl has got you so goddamn pegged, and you wonder why you ever thought you could hide from her.

“No.” you say simply. Your eyes wander back to the trail over her shoulder. She waits a beat.

“So why do you say it? Why do you keep trying to convince yourself of something you know isn’t true?”

Your eyes find hers again and you can see she knows your answer already. She knows what it’s like to curse your own existence. She wants you to say it out loud. To remind you. Both of you.

“Because the alternative is to admit that I’m not made for this.” You pause, because you want to word this right. For both of you.

“But the kicker is, it doesn’t matter. I am who I am. I have the cards I’ve been dealt, and I have no choice but to play them. And you know what I’ve learned, Creampuff?”

She hums and tilts her head.

“Sometimes you’re dealt a shit hand, and you lose. You may lose everything.”

You stop walking because you’ve finally reached your destination.

“But sometimes, very rarely, but sometimes you’re dealt a royal flush. And you have to go all-in. You’ve got to milk that thing for all it’s worth because there’s no other choice.”

She’s looking at you like you just told her the secret to the universe and then she smiles your smile and her eyes are burning into yours and you’ve never felt so warm in your life.

“Hmmm, see that’s where I disagree. And that’s what I love most about you.”

You look at her in utter shock and you know you must look like you’d seen a ghost because she chuckles lightly and presses her finger in between your brows where they’ve scrunched together.

“You don’t see it. And that’s the best part. You can’t even see it.”

“Creampuff, you sound like a crazy person.” You say. You have no idea what in the hell she’s blabbing about and the look in her eyes in making you feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

“You always try. Even when you know it’s hopeless. You don’t even think giving up is an option.”

You shake your head. Has she forgotten everything you’ve told her?

“Cupcake, I don’t think you’ve been listening to me. My whole life is about giving up.”

She shakes her head.

“Then tell me why you didn’t kill me when you met me?”

You freeze. You had chalked that up to a brief moment of insanity. You were thankful for it, because it led you here. It led you to Laura. But something in her words was tickling the back of your skull and it had your hair standing on end.

You shake your head because thinking about it is making your mind whirl and you don’t want to fall apart right now.

You roll your eyes, but you know your lips are still trembling.

“I didn’t kill you because you were such an idiot for trying to befriend a vampire it scrambled my brains.”

She rolls her eyes and squirms, so you let her down to her feet. Her hands travel down your chest and her thumbs slip under your shirt and settle just above your waistband on your hips.

“One of these days you’ll realize the real reason and I hope I’m there to see it.” She leans up and kisses you gently. You kiss her back slowly, but pull back because you know how intoxicating her kisses are.

You take her hand and lead her across the rocky sand beach. Your eyes quickly find the boulder you perched on that night when you ran away. When Laura was too much for you. When you left and came back too late.

You lead her silently up the lower rocks and help her up to the top. You sit with your legs spread and pull her down in between them. She settles into your chest and your arms wrap tightly around her middle. You bring your legs up to wrap around on top of hers, and you feel her head thump against your collar bone. You look down to see her eyes closed lightly, cinnamon lashes brushing against her cheeks.

She rolls her head towards you so her forehead rests against your neck and you slip your hands under her shirt to find the skin of her abdomen. You press your palms against her stomach lightly and she sighs.

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

She smiles and rests her hands over yours.

“Yeah. In fact-“She moves your arms up higher, so they’re resting on her ribs, your thumbs just barely brushing against her bra.

“Better.” You smile and rest your cheek on her head. You let your thumbs rub back and forth over her ribs and your mind narrows to the sound of her heartbeat, the rise and fall of her chest against your hands, and the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore below.

“How did you know about this place?”

Her voice startles you, and you realize you had been on the verge of drifting off. You lift your head slightly and try to peer around at her face. She’s got her eyes closed, and her face is blank besides the smallest tension in her brow. You don’t know what she will think of your date location choice, but you tell her anyway.

“This is where I went. When I left.” You feel her stiffen against you and your eyes close because you hate that you hurt her. You had been selfish and so wrapped up in your own shit you hadn’t even thought to think about how she felt about you.

You feel her shift and a hand traces your brow. You open your eyes and she’s looking up at you, the furrow in her brow more pronounced, and there’s tension in her lips as they purse.

“I’m sorry.” You say weakly. You know it isn’t enough, but it’s all you have to give her right now, so you give it to her.

“I know.” She whispers. And your eyes close again because you know you’ve broken something between you that you may never be able to fix. You left and she waited, and you didn’t come back. She knows you’re sorry, but you also know it’s not enough.

“I know- I know it’s not enough. I’ll probably never be enough. But-“You squeeze your eyes closed as tight as you can and focus on getting these words out because you want her to know. She should know even if she ends up leaving or everything falls apart.

She’s quiet, her breaths are steady and her heartbeat thumps against your fingers on her ribs. But you feel her relax into you, and you feel like something melts inside of you, like that know in your gut loosens just a tiny bit more.

“When I came here, I was mad. Furious. I felt like I had given you everything I had, but you still demanded more. Like you were demanding for me to be someone I’m not. Someone stronger. Someone with more to offer. And I was mad at you. But then I realized I was just mad at myself. I was mad that I was this shell of a being, and I had so little to offer.”

You take a deep breath. It’s getting easier telling her things, but it still feels like you’re choking on your words.

“But then I- I just…decided that I’m gonna…try. To be enough. I know I never can. I know that. But- But whatever I have, it’s yours. All of it.” You involuntarily tighten your arms around her because you need to feel her. You want to impress on her skin how much you want to be enough, so she knows. So, she could look down at herself everyday and see that you were trying. That she had all you had to give.

You feel her squirm a bit and you immediately loosen your arms, your hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. You think you might have gone too far and maybe she didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about her. Your insides feel scrambled and you’re trying to avoid her gaze because you don’t want her to see how much you feel.

But then she’s turning around to face you, still between your legs, her legs on either side of your waist. She wraps her arms around your neck and you’re still feeling unsure of yourself, so your hands hover in the air over her thighs uncertainly. You always feel this way when you let her see you. When you take out a new part of yourself and let her shine a light on it. It’s jarring and if you had a heartbeat you think it would be stuttering.

She takes your hands and places them on her waist, and then returns hers to the nape of your neck. You’re flailing again and so your hands instinctively reach under the hem of her shirt and press against the skin of her sides. You feel a bit more anchored, so you bring your eyes up to hers.

Her eyes are tense with worry, and her brow is furrowed in concentration. She’s scanning your face and you wait for her verdict. You’re used to the scrutiny by now, but that doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

“You think so little of yourself. And it makes me hurt to think you don’t see it.”

You heave a sigh because you think you might have this conversation with her a thousand more times and still end up going in circles because this girl is so damn stubborn.

“Laura, what about me or my life indicates otherwise? Sure, I didn’t kill you, but what does it matter if I killed thousands of others. What about that don’t you understand?”

Her eyes bore into yours and your see a spark of anger there.

“Carmilla. It’s not about _me_ not understanding. It’s _you_. _You_ are too damn stubborn to see it. _You’re_ the one who as long as you’ve lived, never gave up. _You_ never gave up.”

You start shaking your head vigorously, but she cuts you off.

“No. You’re gonna tell me another gruesome story about how you mutilated someone and liked it or how you gave in to your vampireyness instead of fighting it or how you never cared about anyone but yourself for the last century. I know Carmilla. I get it. But none of that makes a difference. Because through all that shit, through all of that pain and misery and despair and times when you were sure that life was meaningless and you were destined to live a life of misery, you didn’t give up.”

You just stare at her with wide eyes because you absolutely were about to tell her about the time you eviscerated someone because you thought their hair was stupid, and the way she’s practically yelling at you is making your brain glitch.

“And you keep saying that I’m strong and I try and it’s so wonderful to hear but-“her chin starts quivering and her lips are trembling. “But it’s not true. The only reason why I’m still here is because-“

She cuts herself off, and she chokes out a sob. She looks a little surprised at herself and you think maybe she’s shared something she never planned on saying out loud. You know the feeling. You know how it feels for your body to reject vulnerability like a gag reflex.

You rake your fingers lightly up and down her back because you remember how it made her melt into a puddle last time and you see the tension slowly roll out of her shoulders.

She purses her lips and you see her jaw set in fierce determination. Her eyes are burning and even though you know she’s about to tell you about her darkest time, you feel warm pride bloom in your chest. God, you think, this girl could melt glaciers with her eyes if she decided to.

“I was in the library for five years. You know that. I was alone for five years. And I know that can’t compare to being buried alive for a century, but for me that was a long time. It _felt_ like I was buried, and after a while it got to me. The failure, the loneliness, the emptiness got to me. I was so desperate. I just needed it to end one way or another and I didn’t care how.”

She’s trembling in your arms and you want to squeeze her against your chest until she melds into you, but you know she needs space to get this out. There will be a time for your support, but right now this is her battle to fight.

“So, I gave up. For a month I didn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or eat. I couldn’t. I couldn’t get myself to move. And then I couldn’t even eat. I prayed that the library would just toss me out into the ocean so I could sink to the bottom and never come up again. The only reason I ended up getting out of bed is because I missed so many of Laf’s calls that they figured out how to send me a cupcake through the library.”

You remember wondering how Susie Homemaker was sending Laura cupcakes.

“They built some contraption and sent a reanimated cupcake to the office. It wasn’t as good when Perry makes it fresh, but it reminded me that there were people that would be sad if I were gone.”

Her last words echo in your chest and you feel hollow. The thought of Laura leaving this world is incomprehensible.

“So, I got out of bed and just kept going. A few weeks later I met you.”

She pauses, she brings her hands down between you and wrings them together, her head bowed watching them. She is shaking harder now, and you try to keep your breaths even and calm like she does when you’re falling apart.

“So, the only reason I’m not dead in the ground is because I felt bad that other people would miss me. You didn’t even have that. And you kept trying.” She lifts her eyes back to yours and her fingers come up to clench at your shirt over your stomach.

“Don’t you see? It’s _me_ that’s not enough for _you_. When I said it’s not enough, I was talking about _me_. I’m not enough. You came back and I realized that I never would have done that. I never could have come back. I would have given up. I did give up. But you didn’t and I didn’t know what to do because you’re so amazing and I got mad because even when I brushed you off because I was _still_ giving up you made that god-awful mug for me and I just couldn’t take it and-“ Her voice is cut off with a sob and you decide now is the time to catch her.

So you wrap your arms around her back and pull her as tight as you can against you and wedge your face into her neck, letting your lips find their home on her pulse, so she knows you’re still you and you still want her heartbeat on your lips.

She presses her face into your shoulder hard, and sobs wrack her shaking body. Her legs squeeze your waist tightly and her fingers are fisting your t-shirt over your stomach. You think she might tear the fabric, but you don’t mind.

She sobs into your shoulder for another ten minutes and finally she starts to calm, her body too tired to keep up with her sobs. You’ve been where she’s been. Unable to move because the weight of the world is simply too much and all you want to do is fall asleep and never wake up. You know the desperation and that feeling like you’re a feral animal.

She’s still hiccupping every couple of minutes, but after a while you feel like it’s safe to loosen your grip so you can look at her.

You let your arms come around and your hands cup both of her cheeks, gently tugging upward so she lifts her head. Her face is blotchy and bloodshot and her bottom lip is split from her biting it so hard. You let your thumbs brush away some stray tears and you see more brimming in her eyes. She looks so broken but god, you think you’ve never seen such heat in someone, and you want her to see what you see.

“You know someone once told me that it takes strength to keep going when you think it’s hopeless.”

The tears overflow and her teeth come out to bite her raw lip.

“And you say you wouldn’t have come back, but you did. You came back for Einstein and Curly Sue and Clifford and the frat boy. You came back.”

You let a smile stretch across your face so she can see the pride you feel.

“And cupcake, I’m so glad you did. Because that meant I got to meet you. And I get to hold you and kiss you-“ you lower your lips to hers briefly and you can feel them tremble against you. “and annoy you” you lower one hand to her ribs and dig it in the sensitive spot you found the other day. She squirms and you see the beginnings of a smile play at her lips despite the immense sadness in her eyes.

“And I get to do all those things because even when you gave up, you came back. And I know that desperation makes you feel like the weakest any being could ever be, but in that moment, you chose to pull yourself up, not even for yourself, but for people you love. You were stronger than I’ll ever be on your weakest day. And that makes me so proud. That someone like that lets me be theirs.”

You’re grinning ear to ear now and her eyes dart across your face and then her lips are pressing against yours and they taste like salt and Laura. The kiss is desperate. It starts off sloppy and you can feel her urgency in the way she can’t seem to settle, so you pull back briefly. After a beat, you lean back in and set the pace. You quickly fall into a rhythm and it’s still desperate, but you’re moving against each other smoothly and it feels like you’re trying to devour each other. She squeezes herself against you so that every inch of your bodies is flush against each other, and you feel her legs scramble against your back in an attempt to get closer. You’re both breathing heavily and when her trembling lips open against your mouth and you feel her tongue come out and stroke yours, you can’t help the desperate noise that comes from deep in your throat.

Her fingers pull at your hair harshly and then she’s pushing you backwards and settling herself on top of you with her legs on either side of you. You whimper into her mouth because the weight of her on top of you is almost too much. Your hands grip her ribs tightly and when she pulls back for air you start placing open mouth kisses on her neck, biting and sucking harshly because you want her to know how much you feel. You want a visual reminder of your promise to her.

She shifts and then she’s straddling your thigh and hers is pressing into you firmly and the pressure makes you gasp. You start sucking on her pulse point and you bring your teeth out to nip at the skin there lightly, and it causes her hips to jerk forward and both of you groan at the pressure. Your hands flash down to grip her ass through her jeans, and you encourage her to continue to rock against you. She brings her mouth back to yours and bites your bottom lip harshly, and she’s grinding into you frustratingly slowly. You feel a growl rise in your throat and then you’re flipping her over, pressing into her and kissing her deeply and thoroughly. You grind roughly downwards onto her thigh and you can’t help a moan that escapes your lips. But what does you in, is when she whimpers your name breathlessly into your mouth and you think your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“Fuck, Cupcake. Wait. Fuck.” You pull back and you’re breathless. You feel your fangs pushing against your gums and you realize you almost fanged out and you didn’t even notice.

She looks up at you and her chest is heaving and her pupils are blown and you don’t know how you’re going to detach yourself from her because the sight of her smoldering eyes and the feeling her body tight against you has your muscles locked up.

She smiles at you, pecks your lips once and shifts over to pull you down so you’re lying half on and half off her. You’re concentrating on keeping your fangs from coming out, but the sound of her whimpering your name into your mouth is echoing in your head and you know it’s a losing battle.

You feel finger stroke your brow and you lift your head to look at her.

She’s flushed and you can still see tear tracks on her cheeks. She’s looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“What happened? Did I do something?”

You shake your head vigorously.

“No. No I just- “you freeze because the “s” in “just” comes out with a lisp and you realize your gums aren’t aching anymore.

Her finger comes up slowly to your top lip and lifts, and the cool air hits your fangs. You flinch away. You feel your throat closing up in shame because you hate this about yourself and you wish you could control it better but it’s just reflexive.

She grabs your chin and tugs it gently and you face her again.

“I’m sorry. I’m swear I’m not thirsty. Like at all. I mean you smell really good and when you blush like that-“

She brings a finger to your lips and leans in slowly, allowing you to push her away if you want. She pauses just before your lips meet and you’re trembling slightly because you don’t know what to think of her kissing you with your fangs out, but at the same time you want her to more than anything.

“I’m gonna kiss you. And I’m gonna use tongue. Is that okay?” You nod once and then her mouth is on yours. Her tongue slowly licks into your mouth past your fangs and the feeling of her tongue grazing against your fangs makes your head spin. She pulls back and gives you your smile and you return it.

“I love them. You know why?”

You just look at her and you feel lost and found at the same time.

“Because they’re a part of you.”

You lower your face into her chest because the smile stretching across your face is just pathetically giddy and you don’t do giddy. You shift so your lips can find their spot on her neck and your bodies meld together like they were made for each other.




“Carm, I know you’re like a huge cuddly-bear and you know I love our snuggle time but this rock is extremely uncomfortable and you’re kinda heavy-“

You lift your head to look at her and smirk. You use your vampire speed for once and in a split second your positions are reversed, and she’s laying completely on top of you.

“Better?”

Her eyes are a little wide in surprise at the sudden change in position.

“You know I really hate you sometimes.”

“Well, for the record I’m not a ‘cuddly-bear’.”

She smirks at you starts trailing kisses up your chest and neck to your ear.

“Ms. Karnstein, you’re the biggest, softest, cuddlest, teddy bear I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah…” You say distractedly because her lips are sucking lightly just below your ear and it’s getting hard to think in complete sentences.

She lifts up with a goofy grin on her face.

“Ha! You admitted it!”

You go back through her words and you realize what you said.

“Woah, woah, wait. No, I meant no. I’m a goddamn creature of the night. I’m not a fucking teddy bear.”

She shakes her head.

“Nope. You said it. It’s done. Etched in stone. No taksies-backsies.”

You groan and let your head fall back to the rock.

“Damnit Cupcake you don’t play fair. I can’t be held responsible for what I say when you’re sucking hickies on my neck.”

She leans down and presses a chaste kiss to the spot on your neck before placing another lingering one on your lips.

“You’re a cuddle monster. Deal with it. But we should really get back. It’s starting to get cold and you’re not exactly that warmest.”

You look around and see that the sun has set, and the last rays of the sun are lighting up the sky.

“Ok.” You say, but she doesn’t move.

“Cupcake, you have to get up if we’re gonna go.”

She’s just looking down at you with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Um, I mean I could just throw you across the lake, but I think it might be nicer for the both of us if you get up on your own.”

“Carmilla.” The use of your full name gets your attention and you bring a hand up to her jaw because she’s starting to worry you. You’re wracking your brain trying to figure out if you said or did something in the past few minutes, but you come up with nothing. Except- did she not like it when you used your vampire speed on her?

“Cupcake are you upset that I used my speed on you? I’m sorry I should have asked you I know it’s weird for you-“

“Carmilla.” She cuts you off and you shut your mouth because you’re babbling like- well you’re babbling like Laura.

“I-….” She looks like she’s choking on her words again, but her eyes are white hot, and you feel like you’re staring at the sun.

“You know, right?” She says urgently. You smile at her because you feel the warmth bloom in your chest, and you do know.

“I know, Creampuff.” She just nods seriously and scrambles off you.

You follow her up and she looks a bit uncertain of herself, like she doesn’t know quite where to put her hands or where to look. You just bend down and brush your lips against her forehead just like you did all those weeks ago by your window.

She leans into you and you help her down to the sand and start your way back to the library hand in hand. You take one last look behind you and see an almost full moon rising, as it continues chasing the dying sun around and around. You turn your back and walk by the light of the rising moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew so that happened. god, Laura breaks my heart. This one was so cathartic to write. I hope reading it was cathartic for you as well.
> 
> annnnddd the plot thickens. did any of you predict that last chapter? let me know! also, where do you think this is going? You'll never guess but who knows maybe you'll get lucky.
> 
> Also, I hope my representation of a panic attack was somewhat accurate. I've only had one minor one in my life and I just sort of tried to write what I felt during it. Also a good strategy if you're having a panic attack is to focus your mind on something. i.e. count the blue objects around you, name the state capitals etc. I tweaked it to make it fluffy and cute but hey maybe it could work in real life
> 
> THAT DAMN BOULDER AMIRITE??? I KNOW it's super unpractical for them to start making out and low key grinding on top of a boulder. I didn't even plan that make out session to get that heated but you know when Hollstein gets together shit happens and I went with it lol. Just go with it okay, maybe the rock was like super smooth and comfy you never know. This is the Carmilla-verse after all. Also writing kissing/smut scenes is extremely weird. So forgive me if it's awkward because it feels extremely awkward to post it for the world to see.
> 
> Anyway, now I'm on break, so I'll prob update a bunch. Until next time Creampuffs!


	13. 00:00:00

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carm realizes some things.
> 
> Fluff happens
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up fam. So this is just little short one. Cause I realized the next chapter is gonna be a bit long so I needed to cut it somewhere.
> 
> I'm in a good mood and you can prob tell from this lol Also I added song lyrics to the beginning of the last few chapters so check those out if you like that kind of thing.
> 
> Anyway 3.3k of fluff comin at ya!

* * *

Maybe I know, somewhere  
Deep in my soul  
That love never lasts  
And we've got to find other ways  
To make it alone  
But keep a straight face

And I've always lived like this  
Keeping a comfortable, distance  
And up until now  
I had sworn to myself that I'm content  
With loneliness

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

But, you are, the only exception

-Paramore, "The Only Exception"

* * *

When you became a vampire, you were freed from that obligation. You felt free to do as you pleased and to be as you pleased. Over the years, you had changed, certainly. You were no longer the 18-year-old newborn vampire, eager to sink her teeth into glamourous adventures around the world and hapless humans alike.

You had told Laura that you had felt at one point in your undead life that you may have been destined to be a vampire. And whether one believed in destiny or not, it is hard to deny the ease with which you took on your new state of existence. It was like putting on a perfectly tailored glove. You slipped into it like vampirism was made for you. You got to be a lone wolf finally, no longer pressured by society’s expectations to fulfill your womanly duties, siring an heir to the estate or posing as arm candy for some high-flying socialite your father had deemed worthy of the Karnstein dowry. You were the master of your own destiny and that suited you well. Even when Mother asked you to procure her young women, you had only agreed because enjoyed it.

The more visceral parts of vampirism were quite easy to take up as well. You had seen many newborn vampires struggle with that aspect. They struggled with the fact that your existence, by definition, required the loss of human life. Over the years, you had shaken your head in exasperation at this. You never understood the aversion. It was a dog-eat-dog world and you were responsible for one thing and one thing only- your survival. If taking a life was what you needed to do to survive, then you would, and you wouldn’t apologize for that.

All vampires eventually come to terms with this, and they either decide to end their undead life and roll the dice with Hades, or they simply accept it and feed as much as they need. But it was more than that for you. But you were different. From the very start, the violence filled a void inside of you that you hadn’t even known was there. The power and the physicality of it made you high and you became addicted. You chased that high for decades, until you began to realize the emptiness of it all.

And then you changed. Because you had thought you were finally living your destiny and you come to find out that there never was any destiny to begin with. It was a mirage. A chemical reaction in your brain that responded to the adrenalin rush of the hunt and told you to keep doing it. Over and over again, your brain lied to you and you fell for it. And when that lie was gone, you were lost.

You were still the same as you were. A loner with a penchant for violence and a trail of dismembered bodies to show for it. But now your destiny had been ripped from your fingers and with it, your identity torn to shreds. You did not know who you were without it. You didn’t know what you were besides a bag of skin and bones wandering the earth, dishing out terror and violence.

So, you had retracted. You only fed when you needed to, when the throbbing in your temples and burning in your throat threatened to steal your sanity. And you didn’t make a show of it. You simply picked out the most accessible and discreet prey and ended it with a quick slice to the throat. You’d drain them in the span of minutes, dispose of the body in a dumpster, or a body of water and return to your wanderings.

You were barely surviving. You were not responsible to nor for any other being besides yourself. And yes, that suited you in many ways. But in other ways, it did not at all. You were anchorless and you floated from one space to the next without care. Not for anyone else, and not for yourself. Your existence had been reduced to a Freudian simplicity, where you sought to avoid pain and seek pleasure where you could find it. And that’s what all those girls had been about. You hadn’t cared about Mother or her dubious dealings with gods. You got a thrill out of the hunt and the intensity of the intimacy. But eventually, the pleasure-seeking part of yourself wasted away, until you behaved solely for the purpose of avoiding pain. And even then, when you met Laura you had been toying with yourself. Seeing how much pain you could take before you broke. You were pushing the limits of your sanity.

When you met Laura.

Yes, that was the inflection point, you think. Or more precisely, Laura marked the beginning of something. Inflection point implied an established trajectory followed by a reversal or alteration. You never had a direction to begin with. Your life had drifted from one moment to the next, but you had no reference point. No center. Any one direction was just as good as the next. There was not forward nor backward.

But you met Laura.

And you began to feel the moments tick by. You began to feel like you had a decision to make.

Yes or no.

Left or right.

Away or towards.

And so now your movements had meaning. You had a trajectory. You had something by which you could measure yourself. A reference. A standard. And you realize that before that, you hadn’t really existed at all. One cannot prove one’s existence by measuring up against oneself. And for over three hundred years, that’s all you had to go on.

And now.

Now you have Laura. And now your position can be measured by how far away or close you are to her. Your words can be measured by how much her eyes crinkle or how her lips purse. Your humor can be measured by whether her palm slaps her forehead, or she chuckles lightly, or she guffaws until she’s red and teary eyed. Your temperature can be measured by how your skin feels against hers.

And since you can be measured, you can prove you exist.

Your eyes find Laura, sitting next to you. She’s hunched over some dusty tome, it’s bindings hanging on by a thread. She’s biting her lip and her eyes bounce swiftly across the page.

She licks her lips and her arm comes out to reach for her mug of cocoa and her eyes don’t leave the page. Her hand flits around the mug blindly her fingers missing it entirely. And then she finds it, and her fingers scrabble against the handle before it topples over, spilling brown liquid dramatically on various papers and onto the carpet below.

There’s various exasperated sighs and “Laura not again!” and Laura apologizes and flushes slightly in embarrassment. The curly red head is already cleaning the spill, scolding the blonde for not being more careful.

And then she looks up and her eyes find yours. Honey brown framed by cinnamon. They’re wide and clear. A faint pink blush colors her cheeks.

Yes, you think. You are measured by this girl. She is your reference. She’s calibrated your weight and validated your parameters.

She is the center and you revolve around her. You know no matter how far away she is, and no matter if she’s been dead in the ground for a century, you are tethered to her. Because she made time start for you. When you heard her heartbeat for the first time, you began at zero.

You smile at her. It’s not the goofy smile you get when you tell her a bad joke and she gives you that look that makes your heart squeeze. It’s not the smirk you give her when she’s turned into a tiny fire hydrant at one of your innuendos. It’s not the tight smile you give her when you’re breaking to pieces inside, but you don’t want her to know.

It’s genuine. It’s modest, but full. You your cheeks strain at the force of the emotion rolling through you and you never want it to stop.

She gives you an embarrassed smile and her blush deepens. She quickly averts her eyes from yours, busying herself with helping Curly Sue clean up the mess. But her eyes back flick up to yours and she does a double take. You’re not exactly sure what you look like, but you know you’ve never felt like this before.

She reaches out and then her hand is cupping your jaw and her thumb comes out to stroke your smiling lips.

“What’s that smile for?” She says quietly, so that only you can hear.

You take a breath and it stretches down to your toes and you’re dizzy with her scent.

You shake your head. There’s no way you can put words to the feeling blooming in your chest.

Well, you think, maybe one.

“You.” your lips brush against her thumb as you murmur the word and you feel the heaviness of your admission.

It’s one word, but it’s loaded.

Loaded with the memory of telling her what she meant to you. How she made your world go round.

Loaded with the night she came for you in the office and threw you a lifeline because you were falling through infinity.

Loaded with the sound of this word whispered in the dark, her lips brushing your temple as yours brush her thumb now, when she told you meant something to her, too.

Loaded with spiteful words thrown out with intent to hurt.

Loaded with shaking bodies held against soft chests.

Loaded with kisses, lazy and passionate, lingering hands and urgent lips.

Loaded with bad jokes and celebrity crushes and lost pencils and defective super glue and tear stained kisses and rabbit carcasses.

Loaded with the image of a hand, reaching out into the abyss.

Loaded with whispers in the dark and promises made and promises kept and promises broken.

She looks at you for a moment and then your smile stretches across her face. Your cheeks strain to deepen your smile and you place a lingering kiss on her thumb.

You’re enraptured by each other, neither of you able to look away. You want to take a picture of this moment. You want to remember this moment for the rest of your life. Because it’s the moment you truly gave yourself to her. It’s the moment you could finally say every molecule of your being belonged to her. Was hers to hold and keep.

And as her thumb rubbed slowly back and forth across your lip, you think maybe she is giving herself to you too. You feel like you have electricity running through your bones, but you’re rooted to your spot. And then she whispers, so quiet that you know only you could hear it.

“Me too.” And her eyes burn hotter than the sun and you can almost feel her pulse through her fingertips. The sound of her heart beating steady and strong rings in your ears and you think you don’t know what you’ll do if you ever have to live without that sound.

The thought breaks your reverie and the spell between you comes crashing down. You feel panic rising in your chest.

“Hey.” You hear her whisper. “What happened just now?”

You look at her and she’s so beautiful and _god_ you want her more than she could ever know. But one day she would leave or die. And you would live on. And the thought of living in a world where Laura isn’t is incomprehensible. Untenable.

“Carm. Tell me.” She urges. You bring your hand up to take hers and bring it down into your lap. You start tracing lines from the base of her palm to her fingertips.

“You know, right?” you murmur. You’re staring at your hands in your lap because you don’t think you could keep it together if you looked into her eyes.

You hear the chair creak and suddenly she’s maneuvering to sit across your lap. You lean back automatically, and your arms come to rest on her waist. One hand comes to thread through the downy hairs at the base of your neck and the other comes up to stroke your brow before threading through your hair. You finally lift your eyes to hers, and you feel so small and exposed, but you feel the tiny puffs of her breath on your face and you think you might be okay because this is Laura.

She looks at you dead in the eye, eyes crinkling and her lips curling softly.

“I know.” She murmurs. You nod slowly and she leans forward to let her forehead rest against yours. You’re just breathing each other’s air and you’re soaking in her warmth. You let your fingers slip under her shirt to find her skin. She sighs and you begin rubbing your thumb back and forth.

Then you feel something tiny and hard clunk against your head and you swivel your head around, looking for the culprit. A pencil clatters to the ground noisily.

“Listen lovebirds, not that you would have noticed but we’re gonna head out.” You’re not surprised to hear the scientist’s voice and you glare at them as menacingly as you can. They just waggle their eyebrows and smirk at you. “Try not to cuddle each other to death while we’re gone.”

And then Laura’s standing up and starting to gather papers and attempting to organize them. You feel ridiculously cold and off balance. As you watch Laura move around the table and fend off innuendos and teasing from her friends, you realize something.

You will lose her one day. She’s either going to leave on her own volition or she’ll die. Your time is limited with her. A few decades at most. It’s not enough time. Not for you.

Time is ticking, for once, and you have to make sure you make the most of the time you have left with her.

You wait patiently and a few minutes later you hear the last of the ginger squad and the puppy fade away and she’s walking back towards you. You stand up and walk towards her.

“Cupcake. I have a question to ask you.” You reach her and she takes your hands and places them on her waist and then her hands clutch lightly to your shirt over your stomach. You feel out of place and suddenly nervous. Now you see why she was so awkward when she asked you on a date before.

“Ask away.” She says. Her eyes are crinkling and her mouth twitches. She’s amused at your awkwardness and you want to kiss that stupid smug look off her face, but you restrain yourself.

“Laura.”

Her twitching mouth gives way to a smile.

“Yes, Carmilla?” she says innocently.

“Would you accompany me this evening for a night of fine dining and dancing?” You finally get a hold of yourself and give her your best smolder.

She bites her lip and _good god_ you’ve never wanted to bite something more in your entire life- and that’s saying something.

“I’d be delighted, Ms. Karnstein.” She places her hands on your shoulders and suddenly she’s leaping up and wrapping her legs around your waist and you reflexively catch her.

“Take me away!” She sings. Your chest swells and you didn’t realize you were worried she would say no to you. And now she is being so damn adorable the feeling is overwhelming. You start giggling before you can stop yourself and she looks down at you in surprise.

“Oh my god, did Carmilla Karnstein just giggle??”

You can’t keep the giggles from slipping out and your eyes are watering. She wraps her arms around your neck and smiles so wide you think her cheeks by split from the strain.

This girl.

You shake your head and just give up and let the giggles and hiccups flow out of you. You lean forward and start raining kisses all over her, anywhere you can reach. Her cheeks, her lips, her nose, her neck her shoulder, her chest. She tries to squirm away from you and is cackling like an idiot, but her hands are pulling you closer you her.

Eventually you pull back and tears are still streaming from your eyes and your cheeks ache from smiling so hard.

“Fine. I giggled. But if you tell anyone I swear I’ll spoil the end of Orphan Black for you.”

She freezes and her eyes go wide.

“You wouldn’t.”

You narrow your eyes back at her, one brow arching.

“Try me.”

Her lips come out into a pout and she sighs.

“Fine, I won’t tell. Now, will you take me on this date already? I’m going grey here.”

You ignore the way your stomach flips unpleasantly at her words and make your way to the office.

You had daydreamed about this date for a while as you sat at the table and pretended to read philosophy books. You had a vague plan but honestly, it’s been a long time since you tried to woo a girl the old-fashioned way and you feel out of practice.

You finally set her down by the frosted glass.

“Okay wait here a second, I’m gonna get things ready.” You feel a little giddy and hyped up, so your words are rushed and charged with excitement.

She just smiles and leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

You go in the door and push all the furniture to edge of the room. You rearrange the pillows and blankets and throw some of your discarded clothes in the closet.

Finally, you go to the filing cabinet and with slightly shaky fingers, you open it and reach down, feeling for smooth glass. You find it and you feel a small jolt in your chest. You lift the bottle out of the cabinet and look down at it. You were taking a bit of a risk doing this, but you think after what Laura told you and what you heard her say to Curly Sue, she will get what you are trying to say.

You set the champagne on the ground by the blankets and after rummaging through more cabinets you find two mugs and set them there too. Champagne in coffee mugs isn’t exactly high-class romance but you have to make do with what you have.

You walk back out and turn to find Laura. You stop when you see the look on her face.

She’s standing in front of the frosted glass window and her fingers are trailing lightly over the tally marks. Her jaw is clenched, and her eyes hold an immense sadness. Your chest squeezes because you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so burdened and stay standing. Sure, you had spent a century under the earth and gone insane, but you never thought you deserved better. You had never been burdened with the thought that you had been cheated out of something. You don’t think you could stand under that weight. And you wonder how her small frame didn’t crumple under the stress.

You step towards her, coming around behind her and wrap your arms around her middle, resting your chin on her shoulder. You don’t say anything. You want her to have this moment of reconciliation with these marks. You want her to see those strikes against the glass and feel your arms around her and know that it’s over. She’ll never have to return to this office alone again without knowing she has you.

Your hands slip under her shirt and you press your palms into her lower stomach, your thumbs automatically stroking her skin back and forth. You wait there, with her wrapped in your arms and her fingers slowly tracing those marks on the glass and yours tracing circles over her hips. You keep your breathing even and steady for her, and you turn your head to let your lips rest lightly on her pulse point.

You would wait forever for this girl.

Finally, she turns and leans up to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. When she pulls back, she has a tiny smile.

“Okay I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw Carm. She's completely gone head over heals and there's no turning back for her now. 
> 
> Soooooo, next chapter is gonna be...interesting to write. That's all I'm gonna say about that.
> 
> Also, side note. Is it "grey" or "gray"??? I sat there for like 5 minutes trying to figure it out and then googled to find out IT'S BOTH. Like why would we (English speakers) do that to ourselves. Lame if you ask me. 
> 
> Anyway I'm literally laying around doing nothing so that means updates are coming at you warp speed lol. watch I say that now and it'll be a week before I post lol.


	14. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollstein does beautiful things
> 
> Consent. Consent everywhere. Consent as far as the eye can see.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did a thing. I’ve been debating about how explicit to make this fic and well, here’s your answer. Honestly, as terribly cringey as writing smut is, I liked how it turned out. Maybe you won’t agree and that’s cool. I will say that while writing smut is generally for kicks and people read it for fun, I did write this quite deliberately, with specific goals and points I wanted to get across. Consider this an example of how I believe the first time with your partner should look like. There’s room for variations of course, depending on your relationship dynamic. But this is the epitome for me.  
> This is also the most personal chapter I’ve written. Not because of the smut. But you’ll see at the end. This is how I got out of a really dark time and it feels so amazing to write it and put it out there.  
> Let me know what you think. I’m extremely nervous to post this but FUCK IT here it is.  
> I hope this fills your little Creampuffs hearts on this Thanksgiving Day.

* * *

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

-Robert Frost, “Fire and Ice”

* * *

“While there's life there’s hope, and only the dead have none”

\- Theocritus

* * *

You just smile and take her hand, pulling her behind you into the office. You pull her down to the blankets to sit next to you and take the bottle in your hands. Her hand comes out and her fingertips trace the label delicately.

“I know you were saving this for when you figured everything out. And we don’t have to open it if you don’t want to. But I thought we could open it together.”

She keeps her eyes cast down on the bottle as you talk quietly to her. Her fingers move over to your wrist and start playing with your leather cuff.

“I just thought about what you told me. About being here. And I wish I could tell you that things will be better when we get out of this mess. I wish I could say we just have to get over this hurdle and then we’ll be free to live our lives. But you and I both know that’s no true. It never ends. I’ve lived long enough to know.”

You take a deep breath and try to keep your voice even. She just keeps tracing patterns on your wrist.

“But that’s because we’re alive. Well, you are anyway. And that’s what it means to be alive. To live a life. It just keeps going whether you want it to or not.”

You take the bottle and pop the cork gracefully and fill each mug with the bubbling liquid.

“But that’s the best part. Time keeps going and you’re never the same. Each day is different, simply because the preceding day happened. You may not see the difference day to day. But weeks, months, or years later, you can look back and see you aren’t the same as you were in the beginning.”

You lift a hand and tuck her hair behind her ear and her eyes come up to meet yours. She’s smoldering and you see that burdened being shakily held in those irises.

“And that’s my favorite part. About being alive. You can give up all you want but as long as you stay breathing, you’re still in the game. There’s still reason to hope that the next day will be the day. Because time goes on and waits for no one.” You let your hand curl around her jaw and your thumbs stroke her cheeks. You feel her lean into your hand and your chest loosens.

“So, I know sometimes you feel like you can’t take another day. Like if you have to wake up one more time to more of the same, you’ll lose your mind. I’ve been there. I did lose my mind. But just remember, as long as you have breath in your lungs you have reason to hope.”

You raise your mug in the air between you.

“So, cupcake. I’d like to toast. To time going on. To the sun rising and setting whether we like it or not. And to years lost. And to extremely stubborn creampuffs offering hot cocoa to vampire.”

She lifts her mug and her eyes are crinkling beautifully. You clink glasses and both of you take sips staring at each other. She leans forward and presses her lips to your gently. She lingers after she pulls back.

“You’re such a sap, Carm.” She whispers.

You lay back on the blankets with a huff.

“Oh my god, cupcake you really are insufferable.”

Then suddenly you’re being attacked by 130 pounds of creampuff, fingers jabbing into your sides and lips raining kisses all over your face and neck.

You’re squirming and cackling like an idiot and you know you could fight her off easily, but you let her do whatever she wants because it’s Laura.

Finally, she pulls back and you’re both breathless and she’s blushing beautifully and biting her lip.

“Sooooo I was promised dancing.” She says, raising her eyebrow at you.

You smile and stand, pulling her up with you. You grasp her waist and pull her flush against you and she looks up at you in surprise. You place her hand on your shoulder and take her other in yours. You keep eye contact with her and begin leading her in a waltz around the room. She steps on your feet a few times but eventually she gets the hang of it and you’re whirling around the room.

Suddenly you let go of her and twirl around, before pulling her in so your front is to your back, your arms wrapped around hers across her body. You begin swaying back and forth slowly. She lets her head fall against your shoulder, and you lean your cheek into her temple.

“This good enough, cupcake?” She just hums and you look down to see her eyes closed and tiny smile on her lips. You stay swaying like that for a minute before she turns around and you continue swaying, your hands on her hips and hers around your neck. She presses her forehead into your neck, and you let your lips fall to their home on hers. You really just hugging now more than dancing but you couldn’t care less and it seems like she doesn’t either.

You let that heartbeat reverberate through your lips and to your chest. You could swear you feel your dead heart beating. It fills you up and there’s not a single empty space in you. You’re swaying back and forth slowly, in sync with each other. And you think you could stand there and sway with her tucked against you for the rest of eternity. Her pulse is steady and so, so strong. And you think, maybe it could beat for the both of you.

Maybe it already does.

After a while, you feel her squirm and you look down at her. She looks small and vulnerable. She’s looking at you with those transparent eyes and you know you’re looking straight at her soul. You see the burden there again. You see her straining under the weight. You want nothing more than to take that burden onto your own shoulders and carry it for her. You would give anything to bear her pain, so she doesn’t have to.

You want her to know. You want her to know you would take it from her if you could. You would do it happily. You want her to know it like she knows the back of her hand. You want it to be a part of her, like a wrinkle, or a freckle, or a birthmark. You want it to be muscle memory. The idea as effortless as breathing or walking. But your brain can’t form the words to tell her. It feels too heavy for empty words thrown out into the air between you. Words will not suffice. So, you lean in and let your lips meet.

She leans into you and you just press against each other, her bottom lip captured between yours. After a long moment she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. She’s smoldering and sparking, and you can’t help but lean back in and capture her lips again. Firmer this time. Your hands come up and lace through her hair on either side of her face and you’re pulling her tight against your lips. Her fingers come down to clutch your collar and tug you towards her.

But it’s not enough. You’re not close enough.

You tilt you head and part your mouth against hers, letting your tongue dart out and brush against her lip. She clutches you closer and returns the favor and you almost panic because you know this kiss is going to escalate and you think you might implode when you finally feel her tongue stroke yours again.

You think she might have read your mind because suddenly she dips her tongue into your mouth, and you go weak in the knees when it connects with yours. It escalates quickly from there, and you’re slowly devouring each other. You feel desperation rise in your chest and you want her skin against hers yesterday.

Your hands scramble under her shirt and land on her lower back and you let your fingertips dip just underneath the waistband of her jeans. You’re pulling her against you and your lower bodies fall flush together. The contact ignites something in both of you, and now the kiss quickens and turns desperate. You’re starting to get breathless and you brain is fogging over at the taste of her and her scent filling your head. Suddenly you feel her hands come to your shoulders and press downwards slightly. Then she’s hopping upwards and you catch her as her legs wrap around your waist.

She pulls back and looks down at you and _god_ you can see the want there and you know it’s all over your face too. She gives you a small smile.

“Bed?” she murmurs. You just waggle your head up and down like a damn bobble head and turn to the blankets, lowering her slowly and settling your hips between her legs.

You let one hand come up to trace her features lightly while the other rests on her stomach.

“Do you want to do this?” You whisper. Her smile widens and she nods her head slowly.

“Yeah.” You can’t keep a smile from spreading across your face and you lean in you kiss her gently but no less sensually.

“Me too.” You murmur against her lips. You go back to languidly and deeply kissing, your tongues exploring and stroking each other’s mouths. Her hands are wandering up and down your back underneath your shirt and it makes you shiver when her nails drag feather light over your skin.

On one downward pass, her hands don’t stop at your waist band but slip over your ass and she squeezes firmly, pressing your hips into her center. You start slowly rocking against her, encouraged by her hands and suddenly it feels like there are too many layers between you.

You lean back and you’re both breathing heavily. You keep eye contact with her and lift your shirt above your head, tossing it aside. Her hands come up to graze against your stomach and you lean back down to her mouth, pressing yourself tight against her body.

After a moment, she pushes on your shoulders and you find a smirk waiting for you.

“Fair’s fair.” She says, and suddenly her shirt is coming off and you waste no time in reconnecting your bodies and good god her skin feels so good against yours. Her hands come around and tease your bra strap.

“Take it off.” You whisper into her mouth and the clasp immediately opens and she’s dragging the straps down your shoulders and throwing it aside.

You continue rocking against her, pressing into her more firmly and you feel her hands creeping up your stomach and over your ribs between you and your breath shallows in anticipation. She pauses briefly just as her fingers graze the underside of your breasts and you reach down and move her hands up the remainder of the way, so her hands are cradling them fully. You think the feeling of her small callused hands on your chest is undeniably the most exquisite thing you’ve ever experienced until her thumbs come around to rub against your nipples and you think you might have to rethink everything you know about pleasure. You gasp into her mouth, pressing yourself harder into her hands. You bite her lip when she tweaks them between her fingers, and she responds by grinding up roughly into you.

You reach around her back and she arches into you so you can get her bra open and it quickly joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Then your eyes meet hers and you’re both breathing heavily but you pause because you think you’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She quips and you can see her try to tame her grin into a smirk but it’s hopeless. You’re reminded of the night you met, and it makes you smile that full and genuine smile.

“Cupcake. Are you sure?” you whisper to her. You need her to be sure. You need this to be a two-way street. You want to impress on her how much you feel for her, but you want her to be there with you too.

“Yeah.” She says, and her grin impossibly widens.

You smile back at her and just stare at her like the imbecile you are, and she just shake her head.

“Well? Are you just going to stare at me all night or are you gonna kiss me? Cause I really like the kissing….” Her eyes drift down to your chest and they linger there an inappropriate amount of time. You see her blush deepen.

“and boobs. Boobs are…nice.” You collapse on top of her and you let your forehead thump onto her chest.

“Creampuff, you’re the biggest dork in the universe.” You can feel her squirm and shake with silent laughter underneath you. You lift your head and she’s biting her lip and you need one last thing before you do this.

“Okay, so is there anything off limits?” she just looks at you in confusion.

“what do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean is there anything you don’t like or anything that doesn’t work for you?”

Her blush deepens impossibly more and she’s going into tiny fire hydrant mode.

“Uh...” she mutters. You smile at her and plant a kiss on her sternum.

“Ok I’ll give you one of mine then. I can only do two fingers max. Three fingers hurt too much no matter how much lube you use.”

You smile at her warmly and you see her relax a bit and her eyes search your face. You think maybe she’s never had this type of explicit consent talk with anyone before and it makes you angry and upset. You try to tamp the anger down and focus on her.

“Oh yeah well, um I don’t like you know, butt stuff. It just feels weird and it makes me uncomfortable.”

You nod at her. “Okay noted. No butt stuff. Anything else?”

She looks tense again and you give her another kiss on her chest to encourage her.

“Uh well, sometimes I can be really into it and like super turned on but I’m not like…. physically ready right away. And it just takes some time.”

“You mean sometimes it takes a while to get wet?” You ask to clarify.

She nods, bites her lip and looks away in embarrassment.

You lean forward and capture her lips between yours. She’s unsure at first but after a second, she melts into you again. You pull back.

“Okay. We don’t have any lube, but that’s ok. Will you tell me if it hurts?” She nods her head fervently.

You smile at her.

“Okay so can you tell me what you do like?”

Her blush had faded slightly after you kissed her but it’s back in full force now.

“I’ll start. I’ve never been that much of a boob girl, but I really, really like it when you do it.” You lean down and peck her on the lips and you’re rewarded with a small smile.

“and I can’t come from penetration alone. Clit stimulation is key for me.”

She nods. Her eyes are wide and she has this look on her face like she wants to devour you. She licks her lips and her eyes are bouncing between your chest and your lips. “Okay. I’m the opposite. I like penetration a lot. And you know, like…multiple fingers.”

You feel heat coil in your belly as you hear her words and you feel your gums aching.

“God, okay got it.” You breathe and you can see your conversation is affecting her too because her pupils are blown, and her breaths are getting shallower. You stare at each other for a moment longer and the heat between the two of you is skyrocketing.

“Okay. Okay. Um- fuck.” You were going to ask her if there’s anything else but you lose your train of thought because her fingers start lightly trailing up and down your sides and _god_ you need her soon or you think you might explode. You feel her chuckle quietly under you.

“Okay now will you kiss me?” You respond by lunging downwards and your mouths collide. It’s slow at first but it quickly escalates and it’s all teeth and tongue and desperation. You’re both whimpering and moaning occasionally and the feeling of her breasts rubbing against yours is really starting to get to you.

You feel her hands fiddling with the button on your pants and finally you feel them loosen and your zip is pulled down. Her hands slip under your waistband and come around to clutch your ass again, her fingers digging into your skin. You groan into her mouth and she responds by pulling your hips down into her roughly and you gasp at the pressure.

“Okay yeah ass grabbing is nice, too.” She giggles into your mouth and squeezes and you can’t help but groan again.

You’re hot and you really need there to be fewer layers between you, so you sit up and yank your pants off and throw them behind you. You immediately bring your hands to the button on her jeans and without breaking eye contact, you slowly drag them down her legs, letting your fingernails drag against her skin. She bites her lip and reaches for you when they’re finally off. You lean forward eagerly and let your lips meet again. The feeling of her legs sliding against yours is intoxicating.

You’re rocking against her and she’s grinding upwards into you with every thrust and you feel like you’re going to combust with need. You pull back and trail your lips along her jaw and start leaving open mouth kiss on her neck and collar bone. Her hands come up to grasp at your hair and you hear a breathless whimpering your ear, and your next thrust is rougher.

After a minute her hands trail down your back and her fingers hook into your underwear. She drags them down slowly over your ass and you reach down and pull them off the rest of the way. You’re now completely naked and you feel more vulnerable than you’ve ever felt.

You’d done this a million times before. Been naked with a girl. But you never felt like this. Your skin tingles and every touch is magnified throughout your whole body. You look down at her and she’s smiling at you sweetly.

“You’re beautiful.” She murmurs. You smile at her and lean down to remove her last piece of clothing.

“I know.” you whisper in her mouth and she rolls her eyes at you.

“I really hate you. You know that?” She says. You just hum and you let your body mold fully into hers and good god it feels so good. She wraps her legs around your waist and her heels dig in to pull you impossibly closer and you think she feels it too. Whatever it is between you is exponentially more intense with every inch of your bodies flush against each other. It’s intoxicating and you just rock against each other and let your tongues explore each other for a while.

You’re not rushed. You want this to last. You want to feel and taste every inch of her. You want her to feel your touch everywhere, so she never has to look far to feel you.

Eventually the pressure in between your legs is too great, and you need some sort of relief. So, you shift so one of her thighs is between yours and you sit up a bit, looking down at her heaving below you. Her hands land on your hips and she’s looking at you with so much heat you wonder whether you’ll melt under her gaze.

You lower yourself slowly onto her thigh, never breaking eye contact. Your breath hitches when you make contact, and your hips automatically start rolling forward. You’re incredibly wet, and you’re leaving a trail of wetness all over her thigh where you’re grinding.

“Oh fuck.” You hear her say breathlessly and you see her looking at where your center is flush against her thigh in amazement. You lean forward, and her hands comes back to your ass as she encourages you to rock into her harder. When your clit rubs at exactly the right angle and hits up against her hip bone your head drops onto her shoulder and you groan loudly.

“Fuck.” You hear her whisper again in your ear and it causes your hips to pick up the pace. You realize she’s got a thing for your groans and the feeling of your wetness all over her thigh, so you don’t hold back. You’d never been vocal during sex. You generally go quiet and when you come it’s with a small gasp and a silent shudder. But the feeling of your clit dragging against her thigh and her breathless whimpers in your ear are dragging all sorts of desperate sounds out of your throat. And when she responds with “fuck” or “Carm.” Or “oh god” it makes your head spin and you moan louder.

You feel pleasure pooling in your legs and pelvis, and you know you’re close. You’re breathes are coming in gasps and you give up on trying to kiss her and just pant and moan into her mouth. You grab one of her hands on your ass and bring it around to your front, sliding her fingers over your center.

She moans into your mouth when she feels you and starts rubbing you slowly. Finally, her fingers find your clit and your hips jump backwards at the intense feeling. She starts rubbing slow circles and your hips are swirling along with her fingers. After a minute, she picks up the pace slightly and you let out another low moan.

“ah f-fuck.” You whisper and you bury your head into her neck because hot shots of pleasure are shooting through your body and suddenly holding your head up is too much to handle. You know you’re not going to last much longer, and you know there’s nothing you can do to stave it off.

She presses into you harder, the circles get tighter and your muscles tense and freeze up at the feeling. It’s too much. It’s too much feeling. Your brain is glitching at the sheer intensity of it and you’re starting to panic.

“Laura. Laura….” you plead into her neck.

You feel her hand come up and lift your mouth to hers. She kisses you and then pulls back to look you.

“It’s okay. Let go. I’m here.” You feel the knot inside you loosen completely and you keep your eyes on hers as you feel yourself fall apart. You feel it coming, starting at the base of your spine and radiating outward, your breath catches and it grows and grows and when you think you can’t handle the amount of pleasure building in you it breaks, and you come down with a vicious shudder and a guttural moan.

She continues rubbing you slowly and eventually you collapse on top of her, chest heaving, your lips finding their home on her pulse. Her fingers come up to trail up and down your bare back. Once you you’ve gathered yourself, you slip off her slightly, so your all your weight isn’t on top of her. You throw an arm over her stomach and rest your hand on her hip. Your cheek presses against her chest and you can feel her heart still racing. Her hand comes up and starts threading through your slightly sweaty hair and you have to hold back an embarrassingly cat-like purr.

You lay there, completely entwined with each other, and you listen as her heartbeat begins to slow and your breathing evens out. You lift your head and look up at her and she looks at you, eyes crinkling and mouth twitching.

“Hey.” She says. And your chest squeezes and releases blissfully at the way she says it. You’re reminded that not only are you hers but she’s yours too.

“Hey, Cupcake.” You say lowly, with a smirk.

“Are you okay? You kind of went limp there for a few minutes.” She smirks smugly at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“Yeah okay that was…extremely nice. Okay, not need to gloat about it.”

“Really, just nice? Sounded a lot more than nice when you were moaning like a porn star in my ear.”

If you could blush you would be crimson right now, and even though you can’t you know she can see right through you. She smirks at your embarrassment and leans in to kiss you. It’s slow and languid. She pulls back, but you follow her lips and continue the kiss for another minute because she tastes so damn good and you’re not ready to let go of her yet.

When you finally do pull back you’ve gathered yourself and you can tell by the way she’s squirming that she’s still hot from before. You begin trailing kisses up from her chest to below her ear, letting your hand trail across her lower stomach just above where the curly hair begins between her legs.

You grasp her ear lobe between your lips and suck harshly, and you hear a gasp in your ear and her stomach twitches under your hand.

“I may have been loud, but we both know you were getting off on it.” You purr into her ear.

You continue sucking and nipping down her neck and you can hear her heart beginning to pick up under your lips.

You stop and look up at her. She looks at you confused.

“Is it okay if I leave a hickey?” You ask. She bites her lip and looks down at you heatedly.

“Um yeah as long as I can cover it up.” She says, and you can hear the thickness in her voice.

You smile at her and without breaking eye contact, lower your mouth to the side of her breast and suck harshly. Her mouth drops open and she arches into you. You make your way slowly over, leaving several dark marks on her breast and finally your lips are grazing her nipple and she’s staring straight into you and you feel like you might burst into flame.

Slowly you let your lower lip drag against the tip and her eye lids flutter. You breathe hotly on her and you see goosebumps ripple across her chest. She’s looking at you with the most desperate eyes and you finally swirl your tongue around her areola and close your mouth over her nipple and suck gently.

Her eyes flutter close and her head falls back to the blankets with a thump, and she’s biting her lip so hard you think she might split it open again. You run your run over your teeth to make sure your fangs retracted and bite down gently. Her hands flash up to your hair and pull harshly, her hips jerk upwards, making your hand slide downwards through her coarse hair and towards her center. Suddenly, she’s dragging your mouth to hers and kissing you heatedly.

She pushes you off her gently and then you’re facing each other on your sides. She hooks her thigh over your hip and uses her calf to pull your bodies closer. You let your hand move down to cup her over her outer labia and her breath hitches and her hips push forward into your hand.

She’s slowly rocking against you hand and honestly you forget about doing anything else because the feeling of her tongue swirling in your mouth and grazing your fangs while holding her center in your hand is perfect enough for you. You could lay like this, swaying and moving with her for ages and never want for anything more.

But then she bites your lip harshly and her hand that had been tangled in your hair comes down to grasp your wrist urgently.

“Carm, kissing and grinding are like, super great and all, but can you please get on with it?” Her lips graze along your cheek to your ear as she speaks, and you feel her teeth tug your ear lobe.

You smile wide and chuckle.

“So impatient, Creampuff.”

She sucks and bites down roughly on the skin just below your ear and you gasp.

“Okay, okay fine no need to get feisty.”

She pulls back and looks at where her teeth just were.

“Wait. Wait.” You immediately freeze and look at her worriedly.

“What?”

She squints her eyes at your neck and her hand comes up to tilt your chin up so she can inspect it closer.

“How do you have a hickey?”

You furrow your brow at her.

“Um well that’s what happens when you suck on someone’s neck like a straw, sweetheart. I should know I have a lot of experience in that department.”

She looks at you horrified.

“What? No! I thought since you don’t have a heartbeat you couldn’t bruise!!”

You shake your head at her, and you see a blush rise from her neck to her forehead.

“Creampuff, it’s okay.”

She shakes her head furiously at you and her eyebrows scrunch together even more.

“No, I never would have- I would never do that without asking- I didn’t mean to like, mark you I’m so- “

You lean forward and kiss her gently and wait for her to return it before pulling back.

She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously, but you see the corners of her mouth twitching, fighting off a smile.

“Is this a thing you do; you just kiss me to shut me up?”

You pause and feel a smirk creeping on your lips.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Her lips come out in a pout and you give her another peck.

“And when you pout like that.” Another peck. “And when you’re embarrassed.” Another peck. But you let it linger for a bit longer. “and when you giggle like an idiot.” You suck on her lower lip gently. “and when you act like you’re mad at me even though you’re not.” another kiss, this time you part your mouth against hers slightly. “and when you look at me and your eyes burn me up from the inside.” You let your tongue graze her lip this time and when you pull back her lips chase yours and you have to restrain yourself from leaning back in.

You look at her and smile. It’s your full smile. The one that belongs to her and her only.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires do bruise, and we can get hickies. I have blood in my tissues, but no circulation. So, actually it will take a lot longer to fade than yours.”

You look down at the array of red and dark purple marks over her breasts and chest and you think you might have gone overboard. But, the way she tastes is… indescribable. And when you feel the blood rise to the skin and feel it so close to your lips and you can taste the light tang of her sweat-

“Huh. You don’t seem upset about it. So, it’s okay if I do it then?”

You blink your eyes at her and drag yourself away from that train of thought reluctantly.

“Mmmhmm. I don’t care if the ginger squad or the puppy boy see. But you do and I get it, cause they’re your family.” You lean in and start kissing her neck lightly. “You can put whatever marks on me you want. Then everyone will know I’m yours. If they didn’t know already. Plus, I like it.” You pull back and you see her smirking at you and her pupils are blown wide again. You raise an eyebrow and smirk at her. She’s got a little thing for dirty talk and the thought makes your center pulse.

“You like back scratching too.” She says smugly. You feel her hands start trailing up and down your back and your eyelids flutter. You just hum and let your forehead rest against hers.

“Slow down, cupcake. It’s your turn.”

She smiles and you bring your lips back to hers and you let your hand that had been lying inert over her labia rub slowly back and forth. You decide you’ve tortured her enough and you finally delve your fingers in and rub up and down from her opening to her clit, and her breathes become shaky and her hips stutter.

It’s an incredible feeling, holding her in your hand, her tongue exploring your mouth and her skin sliding against yours. You spend time exploring with your fingers, finding sensitive spots, noting when you flick or twitch your fingers a certain way and she gasps or whimpers in your mouth. Once you’ve mapped her out, you focus on those spots and her whimpers come closer together and her hips rock quicker against you.

You know she won’t finish like this, not only because she told you, but you can tell by the way her hips push into your fingers impatiently and her frustrated groans when it feels so good but it’s just not enough.

You’re glad she told you to be patient with her body, because while you can feel moderate amounts of wetness coating her center, you don’t know if she’ll be able to take your fingers.

Then she whimpers your name breathlessly into your mouth like a prayer and a plea and you decide to try.

“I’m gonna go inside, okay?” You whisper and she nods eagerly against your lips and her hips move up, so your fingers are pressing against her entrance.

You press forward and you can feel it’s tight, so you lean back so you can look at her face. Her eyebrows are pinched together, and you can’t tell whether it’s because it hurts or not. She looks at you and nods, and you push in further.

You groan because she’s so warm and you’ve never felt so close to another person. She whimpers into your mouth and shifts her hips forward and you slip further inside. It’s hard to think about anything other than the feeling of her around your fingers, but she has a pinched look on her face, and you think you might need to stop and try something else.

“Cupcake. Are you hurting?” you whisper.

She looks at you and bites her lip. She searches your face for a moment and then nods.

“Okay, I’m gonna pull out.” She nods again and you can tell she’s trying to avoid your eyes.

You retract your fingers as gingerly as you can, and you see her try to hold back a wince.

“I’m s-“

“Don’t you dare.” She looks at you and smiles.

“You like turning my own words on me don’t you.”

“Yeah well if you’d listen to yourself more often, you’d solve a lot of your problems.”

She chuckles and leans in to kiss you sweetly.

You pull back and you can hear her heart racing wildly in your ears, and you can’t help but find her pulse in her neck with your lips. It’s bounding against your lips and you leave a lingering kiss there, making sure not to leave a mark.

And then you feel fingers wrap around the hand which had come to settle on her waist, and suddenly your fingers are wrapped up in wet heat again. You head shoots up and she’s staring at you heatedly, smirking around three of your fingers captured in her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl around them, and your mouth drops open.

“Fuck.” It just slips out of your mouth because you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter than Laura Hollis sucking your fingers in knuckle deep and staring at you like she wants you devour the rest of you too.

Finally, she releases your fingers and a string of saliva trails from your middle finger to her lip, and you watch, enraptured by the sight. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth and you feel venom pooling in your gums behind your fangs.

She takes your wrist and guides your now extremely wet fingers back down to her center and then your pressing against her opening again.

“Try now.” She murmurs, not breaking eye contact and you know for a fact you’ve never seen her burn hotter than in this moment.

You circle your fingers gently around her opening a few times and then slip in one finger. It’s a little easier this time, but you still go slow, pausing when you hear her breathe hitch. But you think it’s mostly good because when your knuckle is flush with her center she whimpers wantonly in your mouth.

You start moving in and out slowly. She leans up and kisses you deeply, her tongue lingering on the back of your fangs and it makes your rhythm falter for a moment.

You know saliva isn’t the best as far as lubrication goes, so you’re careful, paying close attention for any signs of pain. But you can start to feel your fingers gliding a bit easier, so you know she’s starting to make her own lube.

She groans and starts rocking her hips in time with your thrusts. The feeling of her wet heat gliding on your finger is making your head swirl and it’s getting hard to kiss her properly because you’re mouth seems to have suddenly disconnected from your brain.

She pulls back and you look into dark, simmering honey.

“Another.” She breathes and you pull out completely and add a second finger. She presses her forehead against yours and you can feel her hips getting jerky.

You feel the heat rising in your groin and you think you could come just from watching her writhe against your fingers and feeling your fingers wrapped in her wet heat.

She’s breathing heavily and your brain is filled with her scent and you could swear you feel alive in this moment, wrapped up inside Laura with her skin sliding against yours and her breathless whimpers echoing in your head.

You feel heat on your palm and you realize her wetness is starting to overflow and cover your hand, and the thought makes your eyes roll in the back of your head and you feel a jolt straight to your groin.

“Laura.” You groan and you’re both panting into each other’s mouths. You feel sweat start to collect on your temples and you can see a slight sheen on her body too.

You pick up the pace and she gasps, her body arching into yours. You’re slipping in and out easily now, so you add a third finger and her hips stutter and jerk. She’s moaning on every other thrust now and it takes you a minute to realize you are too.

You know she’s getting close, but she’s just teetering on the edge. So, on the next thrust your curl your fingers and she jerks, and her breath catches in her throat. You start rubbing your fingers over that spot roughly and her body freezes up, arching into your hand, her mouth gaping open.

You start thrusting again and her body relaxes slightly. You thrust firmly, trying to graze against that spot you found every few times, and each time her breathe hitches. Her hands which had been resting on your hips come up and one squeezes your breast and the other comes behind your back. You feel her fingernails dig into your skin and drag downwards roughly from your shoulder to the swell of your ass and you can’t help but let out a moan at the feeling.

You know she’ll come undone if you bear down on that area again, but you want to see her. Her eyes had fluttered closed and you are too close together to see her properly. You pull back.

“Laura. Let me see you.” You murmur. Her eyes open and you’re wrapped in warm gold and cinnamon.

You keep her gaze and then you let your fingers press firmly against that spot. Her eyes widen and her jaw slackens slightly but she keeps your gaze. You start rubbing the tips of your fingers back and forth and a small moan comes out of her throat.

Her whole body stiffens and arches into yours. You feel like you’re falling. Like you’ve just stepped off a cliff and your stomach has launched into your throat and you feel the thrill of adrenalin spike through your veins.

Then you see her mouth curl up into a smile. It’s your smile. But it’s different this time. It’s weightless. You’re freefalling together and you’re not tethered to anything but each other. You look into her crinkling eyes and where you had seen the burden she bore there before; you see her freed. Her irises burn into yours and it doesn’t consume you. It ignites you. It fans your small and struggling sparking coals in your soul, and you feel the flames licking up through your chest and up to your throat.

You watch her reach her apex and you can hear the crackling and popping as your old dry bones reach their combustion point and start to catch, too. She shudders and you feel a new warmth on your palm and her eyelids finally flutter closed.

But you don’t feel the loss. Before you had survived on those eyes. You’d basked in their warmth when they lit upon yours and then desperately waited in the cold until the next time she found you.

But now you can still feel the flames roaring in your chest and the crackling and popping of your burning bones continues unabated. You lay there, with your fingers buried deep inside her, her wetness covering you hand, her leg wrapped around your waist, her fingernails digging into your ass, her heavy breaths blowing across your face and you know.

You know whatever happens, you’ll never be cold again.

You feel tears collect in your eyes and you can do nothing to stop them.

This girl.

You’d lived for three and a half centuries and in a matter of a few weeks she’s dismantled you completely and built you anew. She’s gifted you with her warmth and fostered a spark in your cold and frozen heart.

You gave it to her to hold in her hands. You plucked it out of your chest and laid it at her feet because it was all you had. And she took it in, and you thought she was building walls to protect you, but she was building kindling. And when she gave herself to you, she started adding bits of white-hot sparks, blowing gently to coax a flame to catch.

So, you could have your own.

Not just a piece of her, an instantaneous and fleeting reflection of her warmth to warm your skin but not hot enough to penetrate to your frozen bones.

No, she gave you your own flame.

And now even when she’s not there, if her eyes are closed and not focused on you like they are now, you’ll be okay. When she’s gone, you won’t have to shiver in the cold.

You’ll still be warm.

Because of her.

Finally, her eyes flutter open and look at you lazily. She sees the tears streaming down your face and the crinkling eyes and twitching mouth quickly turn to scrunch up eyebrows and a downturned mouth.

“Hey woah, woah. Carm, what’s wrong?” Her hand on your back comes up to your cheek and her thumb swipes across your cheek to wipe away your tears. You feel her other thumb stroke the side of your breast lightly where her hand still rests on your chest.

You smile at her and it’s wide and full. It’s hers.

But, it’s also yours.

Mine. You think.

You never had anything that was all yours.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong.” You bury you head in her neck and your lips find their home. You lay there and after a few minutes you realize you’ve been whispering the word “mine” into her neck, over and over like a mantra, your lips brushing against her skin.

You realize your fingers are still buried inside her and you lift your head.

“Can I stay?” You ask. Your voice is small but full.

She searches your faces and you let her like always, and you wonder if she can see the fire burning inside you. The one she lit.

She smiles at you, but you can see the worry in her scrunched forehead.

“Yeah, Carm.” She whispers and you nuzzle into her chest, your lips finding a new home on the inside of her breast, right over her heart. She wraps her arms tightly around you and her leg squeezes your lower body closer. A hand comes up you thread through your hair.

You feel the pull of gravity and you let it settle your frame naturally around hers. You feel like you’re melded to her, like you don’t know where she ends and you begin. But for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re disappearing. Like she’s slowly drifting throughout your soul and consuming you as she goes. Before you had been happy to let her devour you. You wanted nothing to do with your soul. She could have it. Burn it to ashes for all you cared. All you wanted was her.

But it’s not like that anymore. You feel her seeping into you, mixing and swirling and it’s hard to tell who’s who, but you’re still there. She’s just there next to you. Above you, behind you, beside you, inside you. You’re both crammed into each other’s souls and neither of you had to give up a single solitary piece to fill the space.

It's a wonder really, how you’d lived for over three hundred years, and you thought you knew how your life would go. You thought had lived long enough to see patterns. You could recognize a situation and you would just know how something would play out. Even with Elle. You were devastated when Mother took her. Driven halfway to insanity with it and the rest of the way when you were buried.

Yes, you had been absolutely devastated. But you were not surprised. You remember seeing that rose on her pillow and the knowledge sank into your brain and it clicked. Like a key into a lock. You really had never expected it to turn out any other way. Not when you really looked long and hard at yourself. And that was part of the reason why you had gone mad. You knew it was coming all along and there was simply nothing you could do about it. Like you were on a train, barreling forward at a hundred miles per hour and there was no getting off and no stopping. All you had was to simply watch as you barreled forward on your predestined track into the dark.

And with Laura, you had been convinced it would turn out the same. You saw the patterns. You knew who you were and your track record. You thought you knew how it would play out. And you had been silently preparing for it to end this whole time.

But you never factored Laura into the equation. She was a wild card. An unpredictable variable that snuck in like a dark horse and changed everything. And maybe a part of you felt this, and that’s why you couldn’t stay away. But you never could have imagined in a million years that she could change your ending.

And that’s what she has done. You’d always thought you’d end in ice- if you could call being frozen an end.

And then when you met Laura.

And then you had thought instead you wanted to be consumed.

Singed and scorched and seared to ashes and blown away.

But you never considered a third option.

That you could simmer and smolder and spark and never blink out.

An endless and exhaustless burn.

After a while, you feel yourself drifting off. And you feel Laura’s hand grasp your wrist gently and pull your fingers out. She places it in between you, and you feel lips graze your forehead. You curl your hand under your chin, your knuckles grazing her sternum.

You hear a whisper, so quiet, but it echoes endlessly in your chest.

“Yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh. so um. Yeah. that happened. If you could see me I’m blushing like a tiny fire hydrant Laura right now.  
> Okay about the hickies. Hear me out. All these fics always make it so Carm can’t get hickies, but I was like, well she drinks blood so where does it go? It has to be in her tissues. So if you bring it to the surface, it’ll bruise, and she doesn’t have circulation to clean it out like normal humans do. I have a whole theory on vampire metabolism if you wanna hear it. I may slip it in a later chapter. What can I say I’m a bio nerd and a medical student I think about these things. Also: I believe consent should be explicitly given for before giving any hickies. To mark someone’s body, even temporarily is no small thing. That’s my opinion. And honestly I think it was kinda hot when Carm asked amirite????  
> Like I said, and as you may have noticed, I tried to provide as many examples of seeking and giving consent as possible. Verbally, eye contact, reading body language, facial expressions, expressing like/dislike when someone does something etc. And look, it was still hot (at least in my opinion lol) And I purposefully avoided language that pushed toxic beauty standards (i.e. soft skin, flat stomach, full or perky breasts, etc.) because guess what? All of that Is arbitrary anyway and when you love someone you love them and their body for exactly how it is. (and people have pubic hair okay. Like literally everyone does. Some have more than others. Idk why we all get embarrassed about it tbh. You don’t have to shave. You’re not less sexy if you don’t shave. Or “finely trimmed”. Maybe one person feels sexier when they shave and that’s cool too who gives a fuck) And I wanted to give an example of people liking different things and that being okay. (News flash: your love for someone is not directly correlated with how many fingers you let them use on you.) And also, I wanted to highlight that not everyone is like fucking soaking wet after one kiss. I feel like a lot of fics and other various media representations make it seem like if you really want someone, you’ll be really wet really quick. Research shows there’s not a direct correlation between wetness and arousal for many vagina owners and that’s fine. That’s why we invented lube. You can never have too much lube.  
> Also small sex health PSA: saliva is a pretty shitty lube. It’s water based and dries quickly. Plus it can spread STDs. But honestly it’s better than nothing and I’ve found it can…get things going? Sometimes. if you know what I mean…So use at your own risk lol  
> That’s the end of my rant. And my attempt to right some wrongs I’ve seen in fan fic smut. Anyone want to debate with me in the comments? I’d love to rant with you some more!  
> (P.S. It’s Thanksgiving here in America, and that means we should all remember what this day really signifies for native americans. It’s a day to remember the centuries of wrong doing against native and indigenous people by colonizers, and we should think about how the land we live on is not ours, and was brutally taken at the cost of millions of lives and livelihoods, and has impact generations of native people. We’re seeing it especially now with how COVID is affecting our native communities especially hard. Here’s an article about the First Thanksgiving and the famed Squanto you’ve probably never heard. https://www.capecodtimes.com/in-depth/news/2020/11/19/tisquantum-squanto-wampanoag-translator-true-story/6261368002/ written by a Native writer (Wampanoag).)  
> Anyway, always ask for consent and lube is your friend. Until next time Creampuffs!


	15. You’re my Cupcake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh the morning after and more thingzz
> 
> a lil cliff hanger
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay sooo, I meant to write more over break but I ended up just sleeping literally all day. I guess that test took a lot more out of me than I thought. Anyway I spent Thanksgiving shadowing docs in the ER and it was AWESOME. I got to see a super gnarly open ankle fracture and stick my finger in someone's head wound and touch their periosteum. Pretty good holiday if you ask me. (btw I'm looking to go into emergency medicine or trauma surgery so this is right up my alley)  
> Anyway sooo I mapped out the rest of this fic and we're gonna end around 20 chapters unless I have to split one up or want to add some stuff. I even have the first little part of the next installment of this series sort of planned.  
> But after I planned it I kinda felt like these two needed a little something extra before the shit hit the fan. and my fingers just kind of.....slipped? annnddd we got 4.6k of smut. But honestly, I wouldn't have put it here if I didn't think it was important for their development as a couple. and also here we get more examples of consent, but almost all non-verbal. That's the beauty of having a consent talk before you do anything! You can just be with each other and try things and you don't have to worry so much because you already know what your partner likes and doesn't like and vice versa. Pretty cool if you ask me. 
> 
> Anyway 4.6k of fluff and smutty smut comin your way. I actually think this is some of my best fluff so get ready to smile like an idiot.  
> I sure did.

* * *

I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow.

I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me when you sleep.

And there are no words for that

-Brian Andreas

* * *

_You dream you’re trapped. And you hear screaming and there’s blood dripping down and filling up your lungs. You know Mother has come back for you and is going to put you back under the earth. You can’t breathe and the screaming is ringing in your ears._

_And then you hear a whimper. And a pained whisper._

_“Carm…please….” It’s her. It’s Laura. And you pick out the sound of her beating heart and it’s galloping faster than you’ve ever heard. She starts screaming again and it’s tearing you apart from the inside. Like broken glass slicing through your gut and acid pumping through your veins. You thrash and writhe, but you’re trapped in the dark. You throw your body against the sides of your prison and you just hit solid metal. It burns and you know it’s solid silver but you keep thrashing. It singes and burns your skin but you can hear her screams start to weaken to broken whimpers and her heartbeat stutters and fades, so you keep battering against the walls with all your strength because it’s Laura and she needs you._

_She needs you and you’re helpless in a box. You know she’s dying because of you. You know it’s all your fault and you were too much of a coward to stop it._

_Then you hear maniacal laughing. You’d recognize that cold sound anywhere._

_You hear blood gurgling and that heart that had beat so strong on your lips so many times fades, and you know she’s gone, and you know it’s you who killed her._

_You stop trashing and close your eyes. All you see is her face. High cheekbones, sharp nose, delicate eyebrows. Soft brown hair and small ears. You see her face in your mind’s eye and you feel yourself begin to shake. You see her fangs peeks out from her upper lips and that smug look in her eye and you feel your own fangs descending. You see blood smeared across her mouth and staining her teeth and it’s Laura’s blood and the sight unleashes a violent hiss and growl from your throat._

_You lie back and wait as the rising blood fills your coffin and seeps into your lungs. You’re burning with rage and you vow to yourself that when you are freed you will find her and tear her limb from limb. You’ll drag it out for years. You’ll make her go insane with pain and fear and make her beg for you to end her. But you won’t._

_No. You’ll make her wait until she’s suffered as much as you have. You’ll make her wait until Laura’s 100 th birthday. Because that’s how long you would have had with her on this Earth. So that’s how long she’ll suffer. You and her together._

_You’re still shaking but you realize you’re not angry anymore. You’re just broken. Your tears mix with the blood rising around you, and finally it covers your face and it’s silent._

_-_

You wake with a gasp, shooting up with your hands clutching your throat. Her name is on your lips.

“Laura….Laura…”

You feel shuffling next to you and you look down to see her. Her hair is a tangled mess and it crisscrosses over her face. You see her hand come up and brush away the strands and you see honey and cinnamon. You feel yourself shake with relief because she’s here and alive and you can hear the beautiful sound of her heart beating strongly and steadily.

Her face scrunches up when she sees you and you know you must look like a wreck.

You feel like you’re falling again, and your stomach is in your throat and you need her to catch you.

Her arms lift and she’s reaching out to you. You collapse down and press your face into her chest and wrap your body around hers. You press your lips against where her heart beats the strongest and hold onto her as tight as you can without hurting her. You feel lips press to the top of you head and stay there, and her warmth seeps into you.

You still feel like you lost her. You can’t get that hollow feeling out of your chest when you thought she was gone, and you were never going to feel her warm skin on yours again. That you would never hear her hear beat against you lips again.

You press into her harder, because you need to feel her. To feel that she’s alive and in your arms.

“Carm.” You hear her murmur into your hair. You feel yourself deflate a bit at her voice. But the sounds of her screams still echo in your head and you need her to keep talking so her voice can replace the sound of her begging for her life.

“Can you just- keep talking. Please.” You hear how small your voice is and you feel her tighten her arms around you.

“About what?” She asks softly. You feel her fingers begin to trail up and down your bare back lightly.

“Anything.” You whisper into her chest.

“Ok well did I tell you about Kirsch and Danny?”

You shake your head, your face brushing against her skin. Her fingers continue brushing up and down rhythmically.

“Ok, well you know Kirsch has got like a super huge crush on her and I’ve been trying to get him to ask her out for like YEARS but he’s always too scared but the other day- oh my god you won’t believe this. The other day DANNY asked HIM out! Can you believe that?” You shake your head again automatically. You still feel shaky, and you try to focus on her steady heart and her skin against yours.

”I mean I knew she liked him. I mean she always was like ‘ew no he’s such a doofus’ but I knew she secretly had the hots for him, but I NEVER expected her to make the first move…”

You start to zone out and you just focus on the way her chest vibrates against your lips as she speaks. You feel yourself start to calm down after a few minutes. You feel the panic and dread from your dream fade away and you relax into her fully. You don’t hear her panicked pleas for you anymore, just her, alive and well and chattering away about nonsense.

You stop and pull back slightly so you can look up at her. She stops talking and looks down at you, letting one of her hands thread through your hair so she can see your face.

Her eyes are wide and clear and yours.

“Bad dream?” She whispers.

You nod your head. You feel a thumb swipe across your cheek, and you feel cold wetness there.

“Do you wanna tell me about it?”

You search her face. She still groggy from sleep, her eyes are half lidded and puffy. You decide to tell her the gist.

“You were being killed and I couldn’t stop it.” Your voice is shaky and even though you’re more grounded than when you woke up, you still feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something.

She smiles at you.

“I’m still here, Carm.” You just nod and keep staring at her. You can’t tell her what else you heard. What you felt. You can’t tell her about Elle. You want to. But the words are stuck in your throat and you don’t have the strength to force them out. You can tell she knows you’re holding something back, but she doesn’t press. She thinks you’re stronger than you really are. She thinks you’ll tell her when you’re ready.

You know you never will.

Finally, you start to take in your surroundings. The morning light is slanting thought the windows and you see the quickly forgotten champagne glasses sitting idly on the floor. Then you see a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. A splash of red catches your eye in your periphery and you turn to see a bra dangling precariously from a lamp in the corner.

Your eyes come back to her and she’s laying back with her hands behind her head, eyes closed lightly. The blanket has fallen just below her below her belly button and her chest is bare.

You must have been staring at her chest for a while, because you’re snapped out of trance when you hear her teasing voice.

“See something you like?” You drag your eyes up reluctantly and see crinkling eyes and a pink blush dusting her cheeks.

“You’re naked.” You say dumbly.

“Mmmhmm.” She hums, her smile growing wider.

You look down at yourself.

“I’m naked.” She bites her lip and you feel her gaze rake up and down your body.

“Yeah I noticed.” She says.

You look back down at her body. She’s decorated in dark red and purple marks going all over her chest and breasts. You lick your lips as you remember making them.

“Enjoying your handiwork?” She asks. You nod without moving your eyes from her chest and lean down to lightly kiss one of the darker ones on the side of her breast. You still feel a bit wobbly but when you feel her skin against your lips once again, you’re grounded.

You lean back slightly and look up at her.

“I may have gone a little overboard.” You mutter. She just chuckles at you and shakes her head.

“Yeah you really seemed to like doing that. Shouldn’t be surprised though. A vampire who likes giving her girlfriend hickies a little too much. It’s kind of cliché actually”

She’s smiling your smile at you and your heart blooms, your dream as good as forgotten.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” You tease. You try to sound light but your stomach twists uncomfortably. She looks at you like you just told her the sky is purple.

“Um yeah we just had sex after champagne and dancing, and I’m covered in hickies what else would you be?”

You avoid her eyes because suddenly you feel small again.

“Well I mean I kinda felt like we were more than that. I- I don’t know…forget it.”

She shakes her head and you feel a hand cup on your jaw and tug. You look back at her and she’s burning again. This time you’re burning just as hot.

“No, no. I agree. I just didn’t know what else to call us.”

You search her face and move so you’re hovering over her and her legs immediately come up to wrap around your waist.

She looks up at you and your heart almost hurts because she’s so beautiful and you never want to lose her. How do you put that into a label?

“You’re my Cupcake.” You say and she smiles wide before you lean down you capture her lips in yours. She kisses you back for a second but then she’s smiling again and all you’re getting is teeth. You’re reminded of your first kiss and you feel your chest loosen.

You lean back and look down at her smiling red face.

“You’re doing it again.” You say.

She just shakes her head and grabs you by the neck to bring you down again to crash your lips together. It’s long and slow and tender. You feel so full and whole you don’t think you ever want to stop. Your mouth has other plans though, and this time it’s you who breaks the kiss with your smile.

“Who’s smiling now?” She teases and you just press your forehead against hers and close your eyes. You lie there breathing each other’s air and reveling in the way your skin slides together gently.

“You’re my Carm.” She whispers. You open your eyes and you see her smile has faded but her eyes are clear and deep and smoldering.

You wonder briefly if you smolder like that now too, because you feel like you’re glowing red hot.

You lean down and let you lips meet. She kisses you back hungrily, and you quickly pick up and match her pace. You feel all the desperation from your dream and your body is remembering how intoxicating it is to have her body wrapped around yours in every way possible. It all leaks into your kiss. She’s keeping up easily and you start to feel her fingers dig into your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer and you wonder what she’s feeling.

Does she feel it too?

Does she feel like there's a fire lit in her bones?

Does she feel like she’s breaking apart and being mended together at the same time like you?

You think she might, because her mouth moves against yours with an urgency you’ve never felt form her, and you feel her shake slightly. You realize you’re vibrating with need too and you can’t stop your hand from diving down between her legs to thread through the coarse hair there. You wait to feel her lift her pelvis up into your hand before you let your fingers stroke her center. You start circling her clit slowly but firmly and she leans back to gasp for a breath. Her eyes are shut lightly, and her teeth are gnawing into her lower lip. Her breathe hitches when you swipe across roughly and her eyes snap open and they’re dark and clear and burning straight through you.

Suddenly you feel her hand leave your back and her fingers are stroking your center from your entrance to your clit urgently and you let out a breath in a hiss. She quickly finds your clit and starts mimicking your slow circles. She picks up the pace and presses into you roughly and you feel shots of pleasure shoot through your groin and your hips push into her hand. You start rubbing harder and faster on her and when you feel her whimper in your ear and her hips jerk upwards into you let out a groan of your own, letting your forehead press into hers.

You can feel the desperation in her touch and the way she can’t see to get you close enough. You want more of her. You want all of her. You need her to devour you and mend you and break you at the same time and you want to do the same for her.

You quickly feel yourself building, and you’re panting into her mouth. Your fingers start to falter and lose rhythm on her and your muscles start to lock up as you feel it building in you. You feel a finger slip inside you and curl roughly, her thumb still circling your clit. You freeze up and your hips jerk.

And then suddenly you’re coming with a gasp and it takes the wind out of your lungs. She doesn’t stop rubbing and your hips jump and jerk at the intense feeling. You gather yourself grab her wrist gently to pull it away, placing it on your waist. You start to move your fingers, and she whimpers into your mouth again.

You can feel her hips press and roll desperately against your hand and you know what she wants but she’s not ready for it.

You pull back and look into her eyes. She’s heaving and her lips are damp and swollen from kissing.

“Can I go down on you?” You murmur. Her eyes widen but then she closes them briefly, gathering herself, before opening them again and _holy fuck_ you’ve never seen so much heat in someone and you think you would be burned to dust if you weren’t burning just as hot.

She nods slowly, biting her lip, and you start making your way down her body, leaving kisses on the marks you left last night and tugging lightly on each nipple with your teeth. She gasps each time, but you don’t linger. You drag your lips across her stomach and let your teeth lightly graze the skin below her belly button. She shudders slightly and you realize your fangs have come out. You freeze and look up at her in alarm, ready to see apprehension or fear on her features, but you just see want and affection.

You feel a hand come up and a thumb stroked your upper lip. You feel cool air on your fangs and her thumb strokes one gently. You close your eyes and remember when she wiped your face gently and saw your fangs for the first time. You had felt so exposed but so safe. Safe with Laura.

You leave a lingering kiss on her thumb and turn back to her stomach. You suck and nip your way across from hip to hip, and when you notice her breath hitches every time your fang grazes her skin you look up at her and she’s looking down at you with fire in her eyes. Without breaking eye contact you shift so her thighs sit on your shoulders and she’s spread out in front of you. You watch her watch you as you let your fangs graze the crease on her thigh. She shudders almost violently, but you wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her still.

You start trailing open mouth kiss on her inner thighs, adding to her collection of red marks and you can tell she’s struggling to keep her eyes focused on you and her breaths are coming heavier and heavier.

You pause when you reach her center. You can feel the heat radiating on your face and you don’t think you can wait much longer to taste her, but you look at her one last time. Her fingers come up to thread through your hair pulling it back from your face. She tugs you forward lightly, and you waste no more time.

You use your fingers to spread her open and you drag your tongue roughly from her entrance to her clit, flicking at the end. She groans loudly and you hear her head thump against the blankets, but you think your groan is louder. Your eyes flutter closed and roll back in your head because _god_ tasting her on your tongue is taking you to another dimension.

She wasn’t very vocal last night, besides a few breathless whispers and light whimpers, but when you settle down and work your tongue against her urgently, her groans and cries fill your ears and it makes your hips grind downwards into the blankets automatically.

After a while stroking and flicking your tongue you finally wrap your lips around her clit and suck. Hard. Her hips jump violently, and she lets out a loud cry and gasps. Her wide eyes meet yours and _jesus_ you almost come on the spot from the look she gives you.

You can feel her wetness coating your chin, so you finally bring your hand around and without breaking eye contact, plunge two fingers inside her. You slip in easily and you quickly bring the tips of your fingers to her front wall. She collapses back onto the blankets with a groan and suddenly you need something else.

You start thrusting your fingers quickly and move up so you’re hovering over her again, she leans up and kisses you roughly, your teeth clashing and tongues plunging deeply.

You can feel it between you. It’s in the air around you. You can taste it on her tongue and the way her hips grind into your hand and her fingernails dig into the swell of your ass. It’s pure need and desperation and consumption. Two roaring flames trying to burn each other out but only making each other burn hotter and hotter.

You’re chasing something together.

An end.

A beginning.

An eternity.

You think you and her might burn forever. Hotter than the sun. Hotter than any star. Just burning and burning and never dying.

She leans back and starts whimpering loudly into your mouth. You pick up the pace and she arches into you.

“Carm…” she whines, and you shudder as her fingernails dig harder into your ass. You know she’s close and you can feel her start to contract around your fingers. You let your lips fall to their home and lightly kiss her bounding pulse.

Her hands come up to tangle in your sweaty hair and tug you harshly into her. You know what she wants so you suck harshly and nip at her skin with your fangs, just light enough not to break the skin. She freezes up and comes with a gasp and then shudders and moans a drawn-out version of your name.

You continue to thrust gently as she comes down until you feel her tug your head up.

She’s still breathing heavily, and you can hear her heart pounding in your ears. Her eyes are lidded but bright and focused on you.

She smiles and leans up to kiss you gently. You pull back and bury your face in her chest as she turns on her side and hugs you closer.

You lie there, wrapped in each other as your breathing calms down and her heart rate slows. You feel the sweat drying on your skin and your muscles feel deliciously tired.

“That your new favorite place?”

You jerk a little when her voice snaps you out of the daze you’d been in and Look up at her.

She is smirking at you and you smirk back at her and nip at the skin on her breast near your mouth playfully.

“Yeah. It’s nice down here.” You rub your cheek slowly against the side of her breast and she chuckles.

“You’re such a dork.” She says. You pout at her and she giggles.

“Oh, you’re one to talk. Your brain stops functioning and you blush like a schoolgirl whenever my boobs are within view.”

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at you.

“That’s not true.”

You smirk at her. You widen your eyes comically and look at her chest hungrily like she did last night, raising your voice an octave in a bad imitation of her voice.

“Uh, Carm are you just gonna stare all night cause I really like the kissing and-“ you lick your lips dramatically-“ boobs. Boobs are…nice.”

You look back up at her and she’s glaring at you, but her mouth is twitching so you know she’s fighting a grin.

“Oh, please I do not sound like that! And I do not blush!”

You nod your head and lean in to leave a lingering kiss on her skin.

“Mmmhm yeah you do. I love when you blush.” You nuzzle into her chest and wrap yourself around her tighter.

“You’re so beautiful when you do.”

You feel her fingers thread through your hair, and you hold back a purr.

“Oooohh so _that’s_ why you’re constantly a jerk and you make extremely inappropriate innuendos in front of my friends.” She says sarcastically.

You nod into her chest. It’s actually true and you can tell by her tone she doesn’t believe that’s the real reason. You’re a little embarrassed so you just stay quiet, so your voice doesn’t give you away.

You should’ve known she’d see right through your bullshit and sniff you out. She tugs at your hair and you reluctantly meet her eyes.

She searches your face and you don’t hide anything from her. She smiles a small smile at you.

“That’s really why.” She says softly. It’s not a question and she’s looking at you like you’re her whole world. You wonder if that’s how you look at her too.

“Yeah. When I first met you, the first time you blushed it freaked me out. Most people’s faces drain of blood when they see me. And at first the thought of your blood so close to your skin was intoxicating. But I wasn’t thirsty, and then I realized you were so beautiful and alive.”

You lean in to kiss her chest again.

“And I think that was the point of not return for me. You had me hooked. I was always going to come back to you.”

She’s searching your face again, but her face is unreadable. She’s not hiding anything, but you’ve never seen that look on her face. Does she remember it a different way? Is she doubting what you’re telling her?

But then she smiles your smile and you realize what that look was: shock and guilt. She still doesn’t believe she deserves you. The thought breaks your heart, but you steel yourself. Because you have time to show her just how wrong she is.

“Yeah like a stain you can’t get rid of.” She says and you smile back at her, shifting up so your lips are level with hers.

“Yeah not even Susie Homemaker could wash me out.” You smile and she tugs you into her lips. Before long, it starts to get heated and you briefly wonder if you’ll ever get out of this bed before she pulls back.

“We’re never gonna get out of this bed if we keep going like this.” She says biting her lip. You smirk at her and lean in to give her one last peck.

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought up Susie Homemaker in bed.” She chuckles and gives you a quick peck before tossing the blankets aside and getting up to rummage through the clothes strewn around on the floor. You lay back and watch her, not bothering to hide your ogling.

She looks back and sticks her tongue out at you. A pair of leather pants hits you in the face.

“Quit gawking and get dressed, you perv. It’s almost noon if we don’t leave now Laf will barge in here and demand we come out and I’m the only one who get to see you naked.”

You chuckle and make your way over towards her, setting your hands on her hips and press your front against her back. She leans into you and you smile, leaning down and planting a kiss on her shoulder. You bring your lips to her ear.

“Hey. Laura.” You whisper dramatically.

“Yes, Carmilla?” she stage whispers back at you.

You bring your hands around to wrap her tightly against you.

“You’re my Cupcake.” You whisper softly and she turns her head and looks at you with the brightest, clearest eyes. She’s smiling your smile wider than you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah.” She says and you smile back at her, before giving her another kiss on her forehead and turning to gather your clothes from around the room. 




When you finally make it to the lounge, you both stop in your tracks, mouths gaping and eyes wide.

There’s blood splattering all over the table, staining the papers and oozing onto the carpet. Chairs are overturned and books lie scattered about on the ground.

You feel ice cold dread settle in your bones and you know exactly what’s happened. You turn to Laura but she’s across the room, standing in front of the computers.

You walk up behind her and see she’s holding an index card, covered in some sort of yellow ooze.

Laura reads it aloud, her voice monotone and filled with dread.

* * *

_Dear Miss Hollis and Miss Karnstein,_

_You’re friends are no longer helping your research efforts because they:_

  1. _Lost their interest in you and/or the project and decided to go home_
  2. _Have elected to find another friend because of your extreme incompatibility_
  3. _Experienced a psychological event that left them unfit to continue the project_
  4. _cited personal reasons_



_and really, why does anybody do anything?_

_Appropriate procedures have commenced; no action on your part is required._

* * *

The card begins to shake and you gently wrap your hand around her wrist.

She looks back at you and you see fear in her eyes for the first time ever.

You can smell it and taste its bitter tang on your tongue and you feel your stomach roll violently.

“It took them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehee. so again we got the non-verbal consent communication running like a well-oiled machine because they already had the explicit talk beforehand. God I wish people did this more it's so refreshing. Don't you think? Even reading it. Like I feel like sometimes I read fics on edge because the consent feels dubious and I'm constantly worried about it. But here not as much. Do you agree? disagree? Let me know. I don't want anyone on edge like that reading the smut I write.
> 
> Anyway, I said this before, maybe in the comments I don't remember, but I'm not having them say I love you on purpose. It's SOOOO obvious and while words of affirmation are a part of their love language to some extent, I truly believe they communicate their love so well in many other ways, including physical touch and acts of service, quality time etc.
> 
> And They didn't do the whole "can I be your girlfriend" thing either because like Carm said, they're so much more than that. It was never a question.
> 
> Also important: THERE WILL BE NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS. THAT INCLUDES THE SCOOBY SQUAD. don't worry. I don't honestly think I could even get through writing it without accidently bringing them back to life so never fear: our lesbians and bis and pans and non-binaries and queers and whatever you think Kirsch is (I high key think he's bi but maybe that's just wishful thinking) will never die. 
> 
> I've got finals coming up soooo updates will be unreliable for the next few weeks. Feel free to chat w me in the comments!   
> Until next time Creampuffs and I hope none of you ever break your ankle like the one I saw bc that shit was GNARLY and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.  
> Bye!


	16. A Prophecy and a Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit PLOTTT. lots of magic-y things
> 
> guest appearance ;)
> 
> Carm keeps her promise
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew sooooo I made this shit up and I'm low key proud of it. Lemme know what you think.
> 
> not much to say other than get your tissues ready I actually cried writing this.
> 
> ***some sexual reference, mostly just some feels.****

* * *

One day you will ask me,

which is more important,

my life or yours?

I will say mine,

and you will walk away not knowing you are my life.

-Khalil Gibran

* * *

Matska Belmonde had been a constant in your life since your undead life began. Sure, she usually only dropped in to say high and raze a few unsuspecting villages to the ground every decade or so but you had always felt her presence. Even when you were world’s apart, you knew you could always pick up the phone and she’d be there. You never did, of course. You rarely gave thought to how much time had passed since your last rendezvous and often a decade or two would go by and she would breeze back into your life admonishing you for not calling her. You and her would then proceed to decimate a small town or go on a glamorous killing spree through the city over 24-48 hours, and she’d be gone as quickly as she’d showed up, pinching your cheeks and telling you she was always keeping tabs on you so you’d better behave.

Of course, her idea of _behaving_ wasn’t exactly what you might think. She often mocked you for your timidity when it came to killing. Which considering you spent a good majority of your undead life hunting people down and dismembering them violently, was saying something. Mattie liked to take risks. She always said killing wasn’t fun unless there was some sort of danger involved. And considering she is a few thousand-year-old vampire, she often had to go to great extremes to put herself in any kind of real danger.

You had never had a taste for risky dares or flirting with death or exposure. You had focused more on the beauty of killing. The thrill of the power over another and the utter magnificence that could come from violence. It dazzled you every time and even now, while you had long since given up such activities, you remember with wonder at the beauty of death. Of violence and gore. You had always thought human body is an art form, and there are an infinite number of ways to dismantle it. Infinite combinations of blood and bile and tissue to spill and innumerable ways to inflict pain. It used to overwhelm you, but now, as you watch Matska Belmonde herself attempt to make herself comfortable on the chair in the lounge, you remember it with some bitter nostalgia, retaining your awe of the human body, but disposing of that intoxicating high.

She looks so utterly out of place you have to fight back a crazed chuckle. This was certainly not the time to laugh but something about the absurdity of the situation and the utter peril you are in makes your brain do weird things.

She’s wearing some gaudy red glittering dress that hugs her body sinuously, covering from her from her neck to her toes, her sleeves reaching down past her wrists to the back of her hands. She looks like she’s just popped in from some royal ball, ears dripping with sparkling diamonds and lips blood red.

It had been several decades since you’d seen her. You remember leg warmers being a thing the last time the two of you went gallivanting through some city, leaving a conspicuous trail of blood and suffering in your wake.

And then she’d shown up in the library, regal and elegant as always, chin in the air, almost dancing across the carpet to wrap you up in an affectionate hug. The combination of Laura and your sister in the same room, after the events of the last several weeks is jarring to say the least. You feel like you and some alternate version of yourself are colliding and trying to occupy the same space at the same time and all the pressure makes your head throb.

Laura of course was not pleased at the turn of events in the slightest, and being Laura, was determined to get to the bottom of why she was here. But the shock of seeing her girlfriend’s extremely powerful and extremely old vampiric sister who used to help her new girlfriend eviscerate hapless humans for sport was obviously getting to her as well.

“You’re uh- well- Carm’s- huh?”

Mattie rolls her eyes and shifts gracefully on the couch, crossing her legs and look at you incredulously.

“This is the girl that’s got you twisted up in knots? Common kitty cat, you could do better.”

You flick your eyes to Laura who is quickly turning into a tiny fire hydrant and you can tell she will explode on Mattie if you don’t intervene soon.

“Oh, come on Mattie you’ve known her for ten minutes, she’s a lot stronger than you think.”

Mattie looks over at your little red tomato girlfriend skeptically. You want to smack your forehead because she’s currently wearing a owl print sweater and you don’t think she could look more dorky if she tried but you can’t help yourself from smiling. She’s so damn beautiful and godamnit if you don’t love her animal print sweaters too.

“Good god kitty cat, I thought the googly eyes you used to give that blonde corset from the 1800s could give a girl cavities. What’s this little nymph got that’s got you giving diabetes to everyone within a mile radius?”

You realize you’re smiling like an idiot at Laura and you catch her looking at you with a small smile. You turn to Mattie and try to look a bit more composed. You’re not sure if you hit the mark.

“Mattie give it a rest. Now tell me why you’re here.”

She shakes her head and tuts derisively at you.

“Always so short, sis. Can I not just drop in and say hello to my dear sister?”

You roll your eyes at her.

“Please Mattie cut the bullshit. We both know you’re not here to catch up. Spill.”

She sighs and purses her lips in resignation, leaning back gracefully into the chair, resting one long arm on the back and her other elbow rest on the arm of the chair, her fingers floating elegantly in the air.

“Fine. I came to stop you before you get yourself killed.” She casts a glance at Laura. “Before little miss wanna Buffy gets you killed.”

You look over at Laura and you think you see steam coming out of her ears.

“This library dragged me around the world for _five years._ And then _your_ mother and her stupid fish friend took _my_ friends and left their blood all over this room. I’m just defending myself!”

Mattie doesn’t even give her a glance.

“Listen ‘millie, you need to wake up and quit this little fantasy exercise. You and I both know this meddling teenager you’ve courted and the Scooby gang are simply out of their league a million times over. You obviously have become quite attached to this one, but Maman and this god she’s tied herself to are not to be trifled with. You need to say your goodbyes and save your skin, or you’ll be put back in that box, and I don’t think you’ll be so lucky to be freed this time.”

You look back at Laura and you’re met with scrunched eyebrows and pursed lips. Her tiny fists are clenched at her sides and she’s shifting her weight back and forth between her feet.

“God, sis you’ve really got it bad, don’t you? Maybe I should just turn your little pet to a red splotch on the carpet and you’ll come to your senses.”

Mattie stands up and brushes out the non-existent wrinkles in her dress.

You see Laura’s eyes bulge and she looks at you, the blood draining from her face.

You resist the urge to bolt across the room, throw Laura behind your body and throw a hiss at Mattie. You know an overreaction right now might provoke her. You try to keep your voice even, but your muscles stay taught and your fangs push persistently against your gums.

“I won’t let you hurt her.” You say as casually as you can. You look down at your nails and try to look disaffected, but you notice your fingers are shaking so you clench them together. You remember your dream and it makes it hard to keep it together thinking about Laura’s blood anywhere but in her body.

“Oh, you are out of your league kitty cat. You know you could ever stop me even if you wanted to.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You bite back at her.

“Fine.” She huffs out a sigh. “Ugh, you are lucky you’re such a cute little monster.” Her voice scrunches up into a baby voice and she walks over to where you’re sitting.

“I’ll refrain from killing the nymph, but you need to listen to what I’m about to say.”

You just roll your eyes and try to make your lungs inflate but they’re kind of just spasming. You’re eyes instinctively find Laura and when your eyes meet, she immediately crosses the room and sits next to you on the couch. She slips her hand underneath the back of your shirt and lets her fingernails scratch lightly up and down your lower back. You feel the rising panic start to fade and your lungs start working again.

Mattie watches the two of you with curious eyes, and you see her lips pursed in incredulous amusement.

“So, while you two were canoodling like teenagers and giving each other those god-awful hickies-“ your hand comes up to your neck and you look at Laura with a smirk. You look at the blooming red mark on her pulse point and waggle your eyebrows. She just rolls her eyes at you and pinches your side. Mattie continues, ignoring your shameless flirting. “-Maman took the scooby gang and word is she’s on a rampage looking for you. She’s got Elle carving through the whole of Eastern Europe trying to find you.” You stiffen when you hear her name and Laura presses her palm against your skin. You focus on her skin on yours and it anchors you.

“You know what she wants, kitty cat. You need to take your pet and run because she won’t stop until she finds you. Or you could just kill the hundred people or so you owe that bumbling goldfish and call it even. You and I both know we’ve gone through twice that amount in a weekend. OH! Do you remember that time we were so blood drunk you fell into that fountain and the towns people chased us out with pitchforks and torches? My god we were wrecked for weeks after that, where was that was it-“

“-Saigon.” You mutter and shift uncomfortably. You barely remember that weekend, but you sure remember the aftermath. You couldn’t even stand the smell of blood for a month.

“Saigon, yes. Oh, kitten we need to go out on the town like the old days- paint the town red! You’ve practically become a hermit in your fourth century. You used to be fun!”

You want to look at Laura to see her reaction, but you don’t think you could keep it together if you saw disgust in her eyes. But then you feel a tiny tug on the hem of your shirt, and you force yourself to look at her and you see clear honey and cinnamon. She leans in and places a small kiss under your jaw, and you feel yourself relax into the couch.

“God, you’re positively domestic. I’d vomit but this dress is a one of a kind and it’d be an international tragedy if it were soiled.” She sighs heavily, her eyes bouncing between you and Laura with a calculating look on her face.

Laura’s hand has gone back to drawing patterns on your back, but you want to feel her on your hands too. So, you take her hand from your back and place it in your lap, scooting closer to her, and start tracing lines from the base of her palm to the tips of her fingers.

“Carmilla.” Your head snaps up and you meet Mattie’s dark eyes. You’ve never heard her use that tone. Come to think of it, you don’t remember the last time she actually called you by your new name you’d taken on in when you’d emerged from the earth.

“Darling, I came because Maman is deadly serious about this. And this fish god she’s bound you and herself to is particularly vengeful. She stands to lose her powers and quite possibly her life if she doesn’t find you. You and I both know that woman is not about to give up after however many thousands of years she’s walked the face of this Earth. She’ll kill those precious teenagers of yours in the blink of an eye if it meant she’d get to you. Hell, she’d massacre the whole of Austria to find you.”

You clench your teeth as you consider her words. Mattie is right. Mother has accrued power over the millennia and is most likely just as powerful, if not more powerful than most gods. You’ll never escape her if you run- you know that. You might extend your life for a few years but gone are the days of wandering aimlessly around Europe in relative peace. If the fish god is demanding payment, it won’t wait long.

“I can see you agree with me. The good news, is that she most likely won’t kill the scooby gang. She’s somehow figured out your connection to them, and if she kills them, she loses leverage over you. But Mother has always been a bit mercurial, and she tends to get….creative when it comes to violence and manipulation. As I’m sure you know quite well, Mircalla.”

You bristle at the sound of your birth name, but you brush it off and heave a sigh. God, you hate it when she’s right.

“Listen, sis. You need to take care of this little mess you’ve made and deal with Mother. Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. Just round up 100 or so people, dispose of them and bring them to her. You can even have some fun with a few of them like you used to. She’ll let the children go and we can all go back to our lives like civilized people. Some of us have _lives_ , kitty cat. I, in particular, have obligations and responsibilities I put on hold to find you, and I cannot ignore them forever.”

You shift in your seat and try to hold back the bile rising in your throat. She’s right. The easiest way to do this was to just give Mother what she wants. You could find 100 girls easily, it would only take a week or so, maybe two if you wanted to be discreet. The thought of letting your predator take control makes your stomach roll, and you feel the ice creeping back into your bones.

You look at Laura, and she’s staring back at you with those glacier melting eyes and a set jaw. You can practically hear her mind whirring, probably scheming to try to find a way out of this.

“But what about the talismans? And the library? It’s been trying to get us to collect those things. They’re supposed to stop some great evil. Your Mother and the fish sure sound a heck of a lot like evil. What if we find the talismans and then….” She trails off and her shoulders deflate.

Mattie scoffs.

“and then what…kill her? Kill the fish god? You think those little trinkets could ever take down two of the most powerful beings in the universe? God, you’re more naiive than I thought.” She turns to you and looks at you derisively.

“God, kitty. Why didn’t you tell her?” you look at her confused. You honestly don’t know what she’s talking about, but something pricks in the back of your skull. Mattie turns back to Laura and looks at her nails.

“Listen, little girl. The library is telling you about a prophecy. And I suspect form the dumbstruck look on Millie’s face, she never made the connection.”

Mattie gets up and floats over to the Laf’s wall and peruses it, one finger grazing her chin delicately.

“There’s a prophecy. About the first vampire and the god of light. It’s been told for millennia among the immortals.”

You look over at Laura and she’s just looking at Mattie, her face blank. You can see she’s in sponge mode, taking in every detail, and fitting it in to what she already knows. Trying to find meaning.

“What’s the prophecy?” You hear her ask. Her voice is even and clinical. Much like the voice she used to interrogate you back all those weeks ago.

“The story goes that long ago, two humans fell in love so deeply they vowed never to let anything pull them apart. Not even death. So, they sought out a god, and made a deal with him that if he made them immortal, they would serve him for eternity.”

Mattie rolls her eyes.

“You humans and your love. I never understood it. I would never expose myself to that kind of weakness. Love is a liability.”

“Mattie.” you say admonishingly.

“Right. So, the god agreed and made them immortal. The god wanted someone to rule over the land on his behalf and procure human sacrifices. So, one became what we know as a vampire. The first vampire. But those two love struck dimwits didn’t see the loophole in their agreement. The god never agreed they would both serve him on earth. And this god, the god of light and the waters, needed someone to rule over his domain in the depths. So, the other lover became…well what many in modern day call a mermaid, but without that godawful seashell brassier.”

“Well okay obviously your mother could be the First Vampire, but why does Carm have to bring the sacrifices? Isn’t the deal between your mother and the god?” Laura asks.

“Ah, if you’d let me finish and not interrupt me, I could tell you, little girl.”

You see Laura roll her eyes and you shift closer to her. That prickling feeling in the back of your skull is getting more intense, and touching her dulls the feel a bit. You remember feeling this just before you met Laura. Like a buzzing in your bones. A need to do…something?

“As I was saying. The two lovers were separated, and not surprisingly the First Vampire was devastated. The only was to get her lover back was to become powerful enough to kill the god. So, she spent thousands of years making deals with other gods in exchange for power. Her quest for revenge became a legend even among the humans, and a prophecy emerged.

One day a child would be born, and her name would be Mircalla. On the eve of her adulthood, she would die and be raised again. This girl would be the missing key to The First Vampire’s quest.”

The room is silent, except for the sound of Laura’s heart beating steadily. That prickling feeling in the back of your skull is raging and you feel like every cell in your body is vibrating.

How could this be possible? How did you not know?

“So Carm is supposed to help kill the god? That works for us right? If she kills the god, she doesn’t need us or the sacrifices. She can just go be with her love and everyone’s happy.”

Mattie shakes her head and walks slowly back and forth across the carpet ands clasped in front of her.

“Ah, but I didn’t say it would kill the god, I said she would be the key to her quest. Now people over the centuries have debated over what exactly that means. Many believe as you said, it means the god is to be killed. But I think that’s hogwash. You cannot kill a god as powerful as this one no matter how powerful you are. No. The only other option is to break the deal. These talismans you speak of must be the covenant oaths.”

“What’s a covenant oath?” Laura asks.

“When you make a deal with a god of this caliber, that deal is…sealed in the universe. The spirit of the covenant is imbued in at least 7 objects, which are then given to 7 witnesses, and each witness is to hide their object in a location known only to them. These are called the covenant oaths. You have to destroy all seven objects to break the covenant. And it looks like, some clever little bastard somehow found charmed the library to choose someone to find them.”

Laura’s face lights up and you look at her wearily. You think all this new information has overloaded her brain and she really is going senile this time. “Oh my god, it’s like horcruxes!” She looks at you excitedly, like you’re supposed to know what in the hell she talking about.

Mattie looks at Laura wearily and then catches your eye. You just shrug.

“Crap you two are useless. How have you not seen Harry Potter? Okay so like horcruxes are these object that you can put a little bit of your soul into and then if you die you can just come back to life. Harry and Hermione went on this like epic quest to find these things so they could kill Voldemort-“

She cuts herself off and sighs.

“Right sorry. So someone wants us to find these horcr- covenant oaths so we can…what break the deal for her?”

Mattie shakes her head slowly and rubs her chin in thought.

“Now that’s where I’m stumped. Why would anyone want to help Mother? And who would have the power to charm the library to find covenant oaths? And why would anyone want to break an oath like this? It could cause massive disturbances in the universe when that energy is released.”

You brain prickles again and it clicks.

“It was Mother.” Two pairs of wide eyes cut to you.

“Mother is the only one with that kind of power and motive to find the covenant oaths. When she found me in 1698, she must have turned me and kept me around thinking something would happen with me to fulfill the prophecy. Maybe that’s why she made me procure the sacrifices. She thought that might be what the prophecy meant. But that didn’t work and when I met Elle-“ You clear your throat because saying her name still makes your gut roll and the feeling of dread is settling deep in your bones. The realization of what all this means is slowly cementing itself in your brain.

“-when I met Elle,” you start again, focusing on keeping your voice even, “She must have gotten frustrated, so she interred me so she would know where I was when she figured out how I was the key to her quest.” You take a deep breath.

“But I remember her telling me that I was the only one who get procure the sacrifices. That it had to be me to drain the blood. That I was bound by the covenant just as she was.”

You look down at yours and Laura’s hands in your lap. You are the missing key. You know exactly what needs to be done.

And you need to keep Laura safe. No matter what. So, you spit out the lie through your teeth.

“When she made me, it activated the prophecy and transferred the covenant to me, but the deal was still with her, so she bears the consequences. I think she turned Elle because she thought my love for her might act as proxy. But obviously it didn’t.”

“So now she wants me back. So, I can continue to give the sacrifices for now. My bet is she’s already gone looking for the oaths and has come up with nil. We’ve identified them, and she needs us to find them for her while she distracts this god and keeps him from killing her. Those tears of blood must have been the god’s way of countering her and her library to try to throw us off.” Most of that is true, so you’re not outright lying to her. You hope against all hope that just this one time Laura won’t see through you.

Laura shakes her head.

“No that doesn’t make sense. If she could charm the library to find the talismans, why wouldn’t she just use it herself? Why involve humans?”

It’s Mattie who answers.

“This kind of magic is…delicate. The kind of power it takes to charm something to find covenant oaths is astronomical. That amount of energy taken from the universe must be balanced out. It’s all very romantic and poetic and unnecessarily dramatic if you ask me, but it’s the way it works. Entropy and all that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Laura bites back. You can hear a desperate tone in her voice.

“The charm must have some sort of caveat. Like a fail safe to maintain balance in the universe and make sure power is not concentrated so heavily in one place- or being. So, two of the most powerful beings make a covenant, and one of them wants to break it? Well, the charm would correct for that, and require one of the least powerful beings- i.e. a human, and a barely 5-foot-tall, cupcakes sweater wearing one at that, to be bestowed with the knowledge of the oath locations. And I can’t help but think this bond you have with my sister has something to do with why _you_ of all people were chosen for this.”

Laura huffs indignantly and it almost makes you smile. God, you are going to miss that scrunched up look on her face. You stop yourself. You won’t be able to get through this if you start thinking about losing her. You just need to do what needs to be done. You need to keep Laura safe. So she can keep burning.

You turn to Laura and ignore the piercing pain in your chest because what you’re about to do is going to irrevocably destroy you. It will hurt her too, she might even break in two. But she will come back. You know for a fact she will.

“Laura, listen. Mattie’s right. I need to go and deal with Mother. I’m gonna go and give her what she wants and I’ll get the scooby gang back safe.”

You see something inside her crack and she looks at you brokenly.

"Don't make me do this alone. Not again." And god you know the broken sound of her voice will haunt you for eternity. But you soldier on. 

“I’ll be back Laura. I’ll convince her I’ll go back to giving her sacrifices and, in the meantime, maybe we can find these horcruxes. We already know where they are, we don’t need the library anymore. We can find them before her and hide them somehow. Mattie’s right, a deal of this caliber is dangerous. If it’s broken, the god might go on a rampage and people could get hurt. We’ll figure something out.” It sounds decently plausible to you. She searches your face and you let her see your fear, because that part is real. The guilt you feel is real too, but you hope she attributes it to you feeling guilty about causing all this. And the dread that is sitting in your bones and squeezing your heart must be there too, but you hope she'll think it’s because you’re dreading killing again.

“But you have to kill all those people.” You close your eyes briefly. And grit your teeth.

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine. I’ll find people that were going to die anyway, okay? And I’ll make it quick. It’s our only option.” She searches your face. You can see that she knows there’s no other way. You don’t have the time to figure something else out. You think maybe a younger Laura would refuse to accept this.

But the last five years has changed her. Hardened her. She knows now sometimes you need to sacrifice a piece of yourself to do good. You hope she remembers that when she finds out what you’ve done. What you’re about to do.

“Do you promise you’ll be back?” She says quietly. You see fat tears welling in her eyes and you almost break. You almost release the vice grip you have on your throat and let the truth spill out of you. But you catch yourself.

This is how Laura lives.

This is how she’ll keep burning.

This how you keep your promise to her.

By breaking one.

“I promise. I’ll be back. I always will come back to you.” It taste like acid coming off your tongue. But you let yourself pretend your lie to her is true. It's easier that way. Yes, you’ll just convince Mother you’ll become hers again and then you’ll come back between sacrifices. Traipsing around the world, looking for oaths, and drinking hot cocoa and sharing good morning kisses in bed.

And it works.

“Okay. Just- don’t let her get into your head. And remember who you are.”

You lean in and place a soft kiss on her lips, your lips trembling.

“I’m your Carm.” You whisper against her lips.

She nods and leans in to kiss you again, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“and I’m your cupcake.” She whispers back and you smile. It’s full and steady like her heartbeat and you close your eyes listening to the sound. You remember when you woke up here in the library, thinking there would be nothing worse than listening to this heartbeat that you’d lost and betrayed for all of eternity.

But no, you think, this sound. This sound you commit to memory because you know you’ll be replaying it over and over until the end of time. Until your soul turns to dust.

And with one final breath, you fill your head with her scent.

Earth.

Vanilla.

Laura.

And you start to feel the ground shake.

You sit there unmoving, with Laura against your lips, her smell in your head and her heartbeat in your ears.

Then there’s a flash of white and she’s gone.

You look up and you see her.

The face that had haunted you for a century beneath the earth. The face that once you had found solace in. The face that you’d kissed and caressed as you spoke about fairy tales and fantasies of running away. The face that sneered and the lips that split open, revealing sharp fangs and released an ice-cold laugh as your coffin was shut.

“Why Mircalla, it’s been a long time. What _ever_ have you been up to?”

You look in to piercing green eyes but all you can see is honey and cinnamon.

“Hello, Elle.”

You say flatly. You stand and square your shoulders.

You’re shaking but you set your jaw like Laura does and remind yourself who you are.

You’re _hers._

And you made a promise.

So when, Elle turns leading you through that familiar mansion, you walk confidently. You hear you bones crackle and pop and sizzle with heat.

Finally, you meet the eyes of the woman who created you.

And you kneel in front of her. Her voice curls around you like smoke.

“Ah, my glittering girl. You return. I knew you’d come to save your little friends. And for once, your self-loathing and lack of self-preservation is quite useful.” She turns to Elle.

“Now, dear would you please show our old friend her new quarters? We need to keep an eye on her after all; she’s quite slippery. We simply cannot lose her now that we’ll be getting the other oaths. It would be a shame wouldn’t it, to have finally collected all seven of the oaths only to lose the eighth?”

You feel that weight again. And _god_ you almost forgot this feeling. The weight of obligation on your shoulders. Your feet propel you forward, and you know exactly where you’re going, like it’s where you belong. You hear Elle’s footsteps following you quietly, but you ignore them, focused on your destination.

You turn the corner and you see it. You practically leap forward and lay down inside, the silver surface singing your skin painfully. You see Elle come to stand over you, and her sneer is the same as it was all those years ago.

“Déjà vu Mir. I have to say I’m sad you’ll be leaving us. You always were a good fuck. But alas, you were always better than me.” She says sweetly, but you note an intense bitterness underneath.

She smiles. It stretches across her face and you think it looks more like a grimace.

“But look at you now. Willingly volunteering yourself to be sacrificed for some idiot girl. Again. Now how did you get in this situation _twice?_ ”

You just close your eyes. You don’t want to see her face anymore. You let your mind reach back and you settle on a different image. It’s Laura laying in the blankets, swallowed up in a ratty t-shirt, eyes puffy with sleep and crinkled with lazy amusement. Her cinnamon lashes lit gold in the morning sun. You feel her cotton covered hip under your palm as you smooth out the wrinkles.

Your chest squeezes and your throat threatens to close but all you feel is grateful.

Grateful for what she’s given you.

And you find, despite the tears the flow down the sides of your face and the sizzling of your skin against the silver walls, you’re happy.

Because you will die, and you will go down and down into the cold dark.

But she will keep burning.

You hear the coffin close, and you’re encased in darkness.

And you surrender to the black, the sound of a steady and strong heartbeat in echoing your ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew so that was a lot. 
> 
> surprised? confused? both? yeah so later chapters will further illuminate what's going on.  
> in a nutshell, I came up with this and then realized it was literally harry potter lol but I went with it I really did not mean to but it just happened. in case you didn't catch it, Carm is the eighth covenant oath. she has to die for the deal to be broken. Carm lied to Laura so she could sacrifice herself. You'll see a bit more why she felt she needed to do that to keep Laura safe later, but suffice to say her connection to Laura endangered her. Also I just made the name "covenant oath" up I think it sounds cool. If you've got a cooler name let me know I'll change it. I had them as "oath totems" for a while but it sounded weird idk.
> 
> Also, Mattie hasn't figured it out like Carm has either. Mattie thinks what Laura thinks as of now. Also, Mattie was fun to write. She's such a boss.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!! and if there's a plot loophole let me know I can explain what's happening better lol I can always add clarifications to the story to clear things up. but just wait for the end all will be explained (and there will be twists!) I just wanted to get this chapter out.
> 
> Until next time!


	17. Like a Key into a Lock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some Laura POV
> 
> Carm realizes something
> 
> Laura realizes it too
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyooo. So here's a little short chapter. I did a little Laura POV and I liked how it came out. 
> 
> If you don't understand what the hell is going on, you will next chapter. And if you still don't I'll explain lol
> 
> Lemme know what you think!

* * *

There’s an ocean inside of me.

Put your ear against my chest and listen

It rages for you

-Johnny Nguyen

* * *

Laura

The first thing I notice is that I can’t smell you anymore.

I was saying goodbye to you, I could feel you on my lips and feel your cheeks trembling in my palms. I told you I was your cupcake and you told me I was your Carm. And then the ground started shaking and then a white flash.

It was a familiar feeling and when I wake up I immediately know the library has apparated me somewhere.

And the first thing I notice is that I can’t smell you anymore.

You have this scent. It’s like a mix of sharp pine, soft sandalwood, and sometimes a smidge of copper when you’ve just drank, although it almost always lingers around you and I can usually taste a faint trace of it when we kiss.

And then something else that’s just- _you_.

My Carm.

I open my eyes and I’m on the ground next to the couch. And you’re gone. I can still smell you. I can still feel your lips on mine. My hand comes up to brush the cushion where to were sitting, and even though I know you probably couldn’t warm the seat anyway, the coldness makes me shudder.

You’re gone.

You said you would come back but something in your eyes was telling me a different story. You were giving me that look you give me. Your dark chocolate eyes were so clear and transparent. You were laying yourself out for me like you always do. But I could see your eyes smoldering and it made me so proud to see the warmth there because for the longest time your eyes were a cold and dark wasteland and I used to think you could swallow me whole with the sadness I saw there.

But you were sparking and begging me to understand. Begging me to take you at your word and let you go. And I let you because I gave myself to you and I know you would never, ever take that for granted.

But I know you’re not always the best at dealing with your emotions. You’re impulsive and quick to anger and intense feelings overwhelm you. Your first instinct is to run away or retreat into yourself.

Lately you’d been retreating to me instead of into yourself. Your hands would scramble against my skin and you’d press your skin against mine and I could see the storm in your eyes calm from a torrential downpour to a calm shower.

But I’m worried you’re back to your old ways. I’m worried you got scared and just ran into the lion’s den without no thoughts of saving yourself.

And damnit I need you now. And you can’t just go running off like that and leave me here alone.

I pick myself off the floor and look around. Mattie is gone and it’s just me.

Again. Just me and this damn library, all alone and looking for these stupid talismans. Or covenant oaths. Horcruxes. Whatever.

I take a deep breath and try not to think about you somewhere massacring a hundred innocent people and my friends suffering some unimaginable torture and gather my notes.

I go up to the wall and rip everything down, throwing it carelessly behind me onto the floor and grab an extra-large dry erase marker and the large world map from the table.

I tape up the map on the wall and stand back look at it. I nod to myself, uncap the marker with my teeth and get to work.

I’m going to find these damn horcruxes if it kills me and I’m coming for you, Carm.

Because even though you promised me you would come back for me but there’s a prickly feeling deep in my gut that tells me there was something you weren’t telling me. It was something about the way you looked at me tells me you need help.

I just hope to whatever gods are listening that you’ll be alive when I get there.




Carmilla

You’re suddenly bathed in a blinding light and you shield your eyes with your arms.

“Get up, kitten.” Your stomach rolls at the sound of her voice but you obey. You want to get this over with. You don’t know how long you had waited, sizzling inside that damn coffin but it had to have been several days. Maybe a few weeks even.

You’re wobbly when you stand, and you feel almost like you’re drunk. Your temples throb and your throat is scorching. You feel your fangs poke through your gums and venom and saliva flow and drip out of your mouth. You feel rabid and a little out of control. The silver really did a number on you. You wonder how in the hell you spent a whole century in there.

Your feet carry you through the luxurious halls, under glittering chandeliers that blur your vision, and plush velvety carpets under your boots. You have the urge to slip your boots off and let feel the carpet with your toes. You restrain yourself and finally you stop in a living room. Mother is reclining on an antique couch and the chandelier in this room is the biggest and most intricate you’ve seen.

You stare up at in awe, and you almost feel giddy. You squint your eyes, ignoring how it makes your retinas ache and let your vision blur to one of your artificial galaxies. You imagine you’re on that beach and Laura is coming for you. You can almost hear the sound of her heartbeat getting closer and closer to you. You almost feel like if you turn around, you’ll see her hand stretched out and those crinkling eyes.

“Hello, my darling. I have a job for you. I need you to get your little pet here with the oaths. She’s almost found them all and I know she plans to hide them from me. You will call her and give her a reason not to. I don’t care how. Just get her here. Or those little children you’re so fond of will no longer have eye balls in their head. Do you understand?”

You don’t look at her, just staring dazed at the glittering lights swirling in your vision. You nod slowly at her words. You feel the weight on your shoulders again. Your head is filled with a singular want and it’s to get Laura here with those oaths.

Suddenly you’re sitting in a chair and a monitor is in front of you. You see the screen dialing and then she appears. Laura. Your Laura.

For a second you can’t breathe, the air rushing from your lungs and you can’t find the strength to expand them again. Had she always been so beautiful?

Her eyes are wide in surprise and them her brow scrunches in worry. You see your hand reach out and your fingers caress the face on your screen. You can almost feel her warmth on your fingertips.

“Carm? Is that you? What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”

Her voice is high and laced with worry. You smile at her and focus on keeping your voice even and clear.

“Everything’s fine. In fact, everything is so much better now that I’m finally away from you.”

She looks at you confused, and you see her eyes searching the screen, scanning your face. Your mouth Is not your own, and the weight bears down on you.

“God, sweetheart did you think any of that was real? Oh baby. I feel bad for you. I’m finally with my family now.”

You see her jaw set and she looks straight into the camera. Her gaze makes your insides jerk and all you want to do is leap through the screen and pull her into your arms.

“What are they doing to you? Why do you sound like that?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes.

“God, you’re dumber than I thought. You really thought you were different.”

You let your mouth stretch into a dirty smirk.

“Well, in many ways you were. It took me much longer than usual to get you into bed. And you were an unusually good fuck, so thanks for that.”

You can see your words cutting down that confidence she had one words at a time and you feel yourself slipping away as she droops in her seat. You decide to wrap this up because you feel bile rising in your throat and you know exactly what will get her to come.

“Anyway, I’m just calling to tell you to drop this pathetic whole horcruxes thing. Mother knows you’re collecting them, and you’d be doing yourself a favor if you just gave them up willingly. She’ll probably let you live.”

Her eyes are searching your face again and you know you’ve got her.

“If I was just another fuck to you why do you care about whether your mother kills me?”

You smile at her. It’s not like any of the smiles you’ve given her. You bare your teeth at her, making sure your fangs are on full display.

“Think of it as a thank you. For a good time. For several good times actually.”

She looks at you and _god_ that look in her eyes takes the last of your heart and crushes it to dust.

“Okay. Well tell your mother she should be expecting me.” Her voice is strained, and you can see in her eyes she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. And you were counting on that.

She’s too damn stubborn to believe you’d flip on her like that. She knows you’re either under Mother’s orders or you’re trying to send her a message.

She’ll come.

Because that’s who she is.

She’ll come for you like she always does.

And it will be the end of her.

Like you always knew it would be.

The screen blinks out and you’re wrenched from your chair again. You stumble forward and then you’re under that chandelier once again.

“Is she coming, darling?”

Your knees give out and you drop down on all fours, pressing your palms into the plush carpet. You feel delirious, and the whole room is swaying. The throbbing in your temples is threatening to split your head open. It took all your strength to appear semi-composed for Laura and now you feel the full effects of the silver and starvation hit you like a semi-truck to your chest.

“She’ll come.” You slur. You vaguely register voices swirling around you and you lean down to press your forehead to the carpet to try and ground yourself.

Suddenly, you feel lips at your ear and a deadly cold whisper sends chills down your spine. Even in your delirium your brain registers the instructions and when she’s finally finished dealing out here orders the weight of it makes you collapse into the floor. You curl up into the fetal position and your hands come up to clutch at your head.

You were so, so wrong and you’d charged into the fire thinking you’d go down in flames to save everyone but all you did was bring everyone down with you. You feel like you’re back on that train, but this time it’s you tied to the tracks and you’re watching it hurtle towards you. It grows and grows and the whistles ring in your ears and the smoke clogs your throat.

You knew this would break you, but you never imagined it would be like this. You couldn’t have, although, perhaps you should have. It’s all very poetic and romantic and unnecessarily dramatic as Mattie would say. Of course, this ending fits perfectly. All the pieces are coming together and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

The only thing that brings you solace is the fact that you will surely not survive this.

And you hope Laura won’t either.

In fact, you will make sure of it.




Laura

It’s funny how things work out. How you think things are a certain way, and it turns it they’re just not. Like when I thought I was straight.

Yeah, turned out I was not. At all.

And you look back and wonder, how did I not see it?

But that’s the thing, there are some things you just can’t know. There are things you just aren’t meant to know at that moment and there’s no way you could. And that bugs the ever-living crap out of me. Because you would think, if I had all the information, if I had all the data, why can’t I see it? Why does it take hindsight to see everything so clearly?

But _you_ figured it out immediately didn’t you? You sat there holding my hand and didn’t even flinch. You conjured up this plan of yours to martyr yourself. And _god_ I am so mad at you.

I’m furious actually.

But I’m really not. Because that’s one of the things I love most about you. You care _so_ much. You care with your whole being. You gave every single part of yourself to me and then you found out how you could give me more. Without a single second thought. It only took you a split second to decide to sacrifice yourself for me.

But it also makes me mad.

Because what about me?

What if I need you with me more than I need you to die for me?

What if I told you I’d rather have just a little more time with you than let you go again, back to the place I know haunts you the most?

You didn’t let me decide. You made the decision for the both of us and I’m angry. And it’s the kind of thing I hate most about you.

But I know you would do it a thousand times over even if it made me hate you and that’s why I love you.

It’s extremely confusing.

But here’s the thing, Carm- you think you figured it out. But you were wrong. You are wrong.

You got it all wrong and you went and jumped off the cliff based off a lie.

You think she wants you because you’re the eighth covenant oath.

And you are. But there’s something else your mother needs to get her lover back.

It’s an eye for an eye situation. To balance out the universe.

It’s simple.

You are the prophecy. You are the missing key.

But you’re forgetting one important thing.

All keys have a lock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god what's gonna happennnnn
> 
> are you confused? well focus on that "deadly cold whisper" what did Mother order Carm to do???  
> And what is Carm wrong about? What's this shit about a lock and key? (btw I took that symbolism from that line from season 2, where Carm is like "you want love that clicks, like a key into a lock. And I have none of that to give you." one of my fav scenes btw.)
> 
> y'all are NOT ready for this next chapter. I wrote it last night and Like seriously I had tears streaming down my face when so look for it tomorrow and you might not want to read it in public unless you wanna cry like a baby in front of people. 
> 
> Until next time!


	18. It's Okay, It's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lock finds her key
> 
> a prophecy fufilled...
> 
> This shit broke my heart
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks. The climax of our story. Buckle up creampuffs this one HURT. 
> 
> never fear- NOBODY IS DYING I SWEAR
> 
> Lemme know what you think!
> 
> ***graphic depictions of blood, gore, vomit, if you get queasy w blood just be warned****

* * *

Love is simply

To know

The poison, but to

Drink it

Anyway

-David Jones

* * *

Carmilla

When you come to and you realize you’re back in the coffin. You can barely feel the silver burning your skin. You are numb. You don’t remember exactly why you are here, but you know you’ve fucked up royally.

Suddenly the door is wrenched open and the light assaults your retinas.

“Come on. Your pet is here.”

You drag yourself up and with wobbly knees you start to follow her again.

“She’s really quite adorable. I can see the draw there. You always did like the cute ones.”

You see a flash of green and a wink thrown your way. You avert your eyes and focus on the twinkling chandeliers. Your vision is blurry, and you don’t even have to squint to make your own galaxy of stars.

You stumble forward, occasionally smacking your shoulder against doorways, and once you trip you’re your own feet and suddenly the floor is rushing up towards your face. You feel a hand wrench you up by your arm and you continue walking. Eventually, you end up back in that living room with that huge, dazzling chandelier and you feel a giggle slip out of you at the sight.

“Mircalla, please come greet our guest. She’s come an awful long way to see us.”

You look over and notice a pile of trinkets on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

You see a sword, a necklace, a huge book, and various other random objects, all old and important looking.

And then you hear it. That sound that had echoed in your ears while you lay in the dark these past weeks.

“Hey Carm.” You turn to the sound and she’s there.

She came back for you.

Like she always does.

Your legs carry you towards her and she’s looking at you with those clear honey eyes and it almost breaks you. Or maybe you’re already broken.

You’re smoldering, just like she taught you. And she is too. It makes you smile wide.

“Cupcake.” You say softly. You’re right in front of her now and that weight is pulling you again. You hear your Mothers whispered orders tickle your ears again and your eyes widen in panic.

You feel small callused hands cradle your face and a thumb strokes your lower lip.

“It’s okay, Carm. I’m here.” She whispers.

And you pull her into you, crushing every inch of your body against hers and she clutches you just as tight. You slip you hands underneath her shirt and find her skin, and a sigh escapes you.

You’re the key.

But she’s the lock.

An eye for an eye.

She pulls back and her thumbs are at your face again, swiping across your cheeks and they come away wet.

You look at her and it’s taking all your strength to hold that weight up from crushing you, but you do it because you want just a few more seconds.

“I’m sorry, Cupcake. I-“

“Don’t you dare.” She says, and her lips twitch up into a smile. Your smile.

Her eyes crinkle and her cinnamon lashes are dark with tears. Her chin quivers and your knees almost buckle.

“Carm.”

She whispers, and you just shake your head at her. The pain and regret in her voice sobers you up in an instant, and suddenly her face is clear as day. Her burning eyes chase away the effects of the silver and you take a deep, cleansing breathe that reaches down all the way to your toes. You know it will be your last.

When you speak, your voice is strong and full.

Because you’re filled with her.

“Listen, cupcake. I was never meant to be saved.”

You lean in and kiss her lips gently. You’re both trembling. You whisper your next words against her lips.

“There was never another ending. For someone like me.”

Her tears overflow and you kiss them gently away. Your hand slides up her back to cradle the back of her head. You nuzzle your face into her neck, your lips quickly finding their home and you can feel it bounding against your lips. You wrap your other arm firmly around her waist to secure her against you and you feel her shudder slightly.

Her heart rate picks up and even though the weight of your orders is crushing you, you wait just one more second. Her hands come up underneath your shirt to scratch lightly up and down and you give in.

Your jaw opens wide and you let your fangs sink deep into her neck. She gasps and you hear a pained groan in your ear. You’re so thirsty and weak from the silver, the taste of her blood sends you into a crazed state. You start sucking from the wound furiously and you clutch her tightly to your chest.

You should have known her blood would taste like vanilla. And now this warmth and vanilla and Laura is sliding down your throat and you can’t stop even if you wanted to. And you don’t.

She tenses against you at first, and her fingers dig into you skin hard enough it would have drawn blood if you were human. But then you feel her melt against you and as your initial thirst is slackened, you become aware of her murmuring in your ear.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You remember what it is your doing and you feel panic grip your heart. You’re killing her. You sob against her neck, and you’re shaking and gasping for air too much to keep your lips sealed against her wounds, so her blood is leaking everywhere and none of it is going in your mouth.

And then you feel her hands thread through your hair puling it back from your face then start to stroke slowly. You’re still shaking but it gives you the strength to keep going. You seal your lips around the twin punctures in her skin and let the blood flow down your throat.

And then you remember your plan. You start draining her with vigor, gulping down mouthful after mouthful and when you can feel she’s too weak to stand, you lower her down to the ground and lay between her legs. She weakly wraps her thighs around your waist, and you continue drinking, one hand cupping her cheek and the other resting on her rib cage.

Her whimpers and whispers become less frequent, and you can feel her legs give and fall to the floor. You feel the weight again, and it’s telling you to stop. But you push through with a growl and suck down as fast as you can.

She needs blood left in her to be turned, but you’ll be godamned if you’ll let her turn into a monster. She would never want immortality. Even though she came here knowing that’s what would happen.

You think you can give her one last gift, the very last part of yourself to give her.

You can kill her.

But then suddenly your mouth is wrenched from her neck and you’re flying across the room, slamming in the wall. You roll over with a groan and you see Mother hovering over Laura’s limp, pale body. Elle is towering over you and you smell garlic.

You look desperately at her limp, bloody body and cry out for her. Suddenly, you face blooms in pain and your head is whipping back and hitting something hard.

“Thought you could save her by killing her, eh? Such a clever little girl you are Mir. Ah, well now you get to watch. And then it’s your turn.”

You see Mother place her hand on Laura’s chest and your stomach rolls. You can hear her heart fluttering frantically in your ears. Then it stutters. Then silence.

The silence is deafening and your stomach clenches. You hunch over and the contents of your stomach splatter onto the floor and the carpet is stained red.

You retch and retch until you have nothing left in your body to expel and collapse on all fours. Your fingers run through the puddle of Laura’s blood pooled around you and you scream. You scream and yell and screech until your throat is raw and finally your arms give out and you’re laying down, hugging your knees to your chest, Laura’s blood cooling on your skin.

You don’t know how much time passes but your vision is blurring and you’re not sure if you’re screaming anymore. You feel Laura’s blood congealing on your cheek. You’re staring at her inert body and her blood-stained hair.

You suddenly realize your mother and Elle are no where to be found. And then you hear a swirl of voices around you and several beating hearts galloping and pounding in your ears.

There’s a flurry of colors and activity and suddenly, your heart squeezes in a vice grip and a piercing ringing sound pounds against your eardrums. It’s excruciating and you clutch at your head with your hands and claw desperately at your skull.

You thrash and writhe and then it begins to fade. The world begins to narrow and darken. You feel relief. The darkness is closing in on you and finally, finally, you think:

It’s over.

The missing key has found her lock and turned, altering it, and the key is discarded, rendered obsolete.

One life ended, the other preserved for eternity.

Two lovers walk through the door reunited.

It’s all so goddamn dramatic.

You wonder, when you get to Hell, if you’ll get to hear Laura’s heartbeat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my GODDDDD y'all I cried writing AND editing this jeez why do I do this to myself.
> 
> Did y'all catch the twist? Figure out what carm was wrong about? Yes? you're cool. No? you're also cool but just wait it allllll gets explained next few chapters.
> 
> also raise your hand if you hate Elle *raises both hands and both legs*
> 
> Annnd the title comes in to play. I saw it on tumblr months ago and I can't remember where it's from. If anyone knows lemme know and I'll credit them. It's what inspired this whole fic and when I read it I just IDENTIFIED with it ya know? and it stuck with me. the original quote is "Listen, love. I was never meant to be saved. There was never another ending for someone like me." 
> 
> only 1 or two chaps left!!! bye!!!!


	19. The Call of Bro-Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just bros being bros.
> 
> A few details revealed in the aftermath
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIVVVEEEEE!!! Hey y'all I'm back from the dead! Thanks for being patient! or maybe you were impatient but lol either way thanks. 
> 
> I finished my finals, and let me tell you, that was the hardest I've ever studied and I'm happy to say I passed the semester! Whoo! so after a few days recuperating here I am with this little chapter. I was trying to figure out how to write the next few chapters and I went with this and I love it honestly. I know it's super short and you've been waiting long but I wanted to get this out real quick.
> 
> Anyway, in other news I may be getting the vaccine soon because I'm a medical student so that's pretty cool. I start seeing patients weekly (supervised be a real doctor of course lol) starting in February so I'm excited for next semester! 
> 
> Stay safe everyone, we're in the home stretch of this pandemic and if we all work together (socially distanced of course) we can get through these next few months!
> 
> 1k coming your way!
> 
> ***some blood descriptions***

Kirsch

I was never the one with the smarts. I never could get things like other people could. Like, there’s all these unsaid things in conversations and people just know, you know? Like, how am I supposed to know if no one says it out loud?

But I have my zeta bros, and my lady bros, and my not-lady bros, and even though I don’t always understand the joke, I still laugh with them. I know sometimes they’re laughing at me and I don’t realize it, but that’s okay. Because they have my back, and I have theirs.

So when the super scary hottie who turned out to be angry hottie’s sister (which I still don’t understand because they look nothing alike?) came and freed us from our cages and told us what’s up, I knew what we had to do. It was the one time I actually understood what was unsaid.

Little Laura was tiny but her love for the angry hottie was huge. Like mega huge. And we all knew that. And that made Carm-sexy an honorary bro. And when a bro’s in trouble, a bro’s gotta step up. That is something I do know.

So, we did our research and we figured it out. Well, I mostly was there for moral support but Laf’s super big brain put it all together before scary hottie did. And we knew what Laur would do when she figured it out, too. Because she’s Laura.

But we had to stop her. Because Mattie had a secret weapon that Laura didn’t know about. Scary hottie had a spell. But, it would only work if we got there in time.

And we did. But, holy moly when we got there I thought for sure it was too late. Angry hottie was curled up in a pool of blood and just moaning in a super creepy but also sad way and little Laura-.

Little Laura was pale and her hair was all tangled and caked with blood. I could see two red dots on her neck and I thought for sure she was gone.

But scary hottie pushed me aside (it like, actually hurt too) and she started saying all of creepy things under her breath with her hand on Laura’s chest. And suddenly, like a switch had been flicked, Laura came to life- er sort of. Her eyes opened and she bared her teeth. And dude, like it was so scary because she had the super scary fangs and her eyes were like darker than a glass of Guinness.

I had to look away, because she started screeching and thrashing and Mattie was struggling trying to keep her down. It hurt my heart to see little nerd hottie like that.

And then I realized that angry hottie was just lying there in that blood- no hottie should EVER have to lay there like that. So, I stepped up to my bro-duty. I walked over and asked her if I could pick her up. (A bro _never_ touches a lady without consent) and she nodded so I lifted her in my arms. She was super stiff and she got blood like all over my shirt but that was okay. A bro’s gotta do what a bro’s gotta do, you know?

I was surprised though, when she pressed her face into my chest and her fingers grabbed my shirt in a death grip. I thought she hated me. And she kinda pulled like half of my chest hair out, but that’s okay because I was planning on waxing it soon anyway.

When I turned around, scary hottie had calmed little Laura down and she was sort of sleeping in her arms.

And I cried a little. I’m not ashamed of it. I love my bros and when I saw the two of them like that it made my heart hurt. So, I cried a little. Someone needed to cry for them. Someone needed to acknowledge what they’d been through. And I knew little Laura had been through the ringer over the past few years and she deserved the whole world to cry for her.

So, we walked out of that creepy mansion and back to Silas. Back to the library. And scary hottie found some magical door that had a vampire proof room to put Laura in and I put Carm down in the office. I knew that was a special place for her and Laura. Laura told me all about it. I thought angry hottie might want to wake up somewhere that was comforting.

She was sort of still moaning and not really awake when I put her down on the blankets. I started to make my way out to give the lady some alone time, but I felt a tug on my pant leg. I turned around and looked down and angry hottie was looking up at me with the saddest puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen.

“Stay.” She said, and her voice was all scratchy and her chin was shaking. I nodded. Maybe lady-alone time wasn’t what she needed. Maybe since her best bro hurt, she needed someone to be with her. I remembered when SJ died and how much I needed my bro-time after that.

So, I laid down under the blankets and let her curl up against my side. I asked her if I could put my arms around her and she nodded into my chest and so I did. And I laid there, with angry hottie all night. I don’t think she ever fell asleep, because every hour or so I’d wake up because she’d be shaking like a leaf and moaning again. I would just rub her arm up and down like SJ used to like when she was upset and she would eventually calm down.

But she never stopped muttering something. I couldn’t figure out what she was saying for a while but then I realized what it was:

“It’s okay.”

My eyes started watering and I cried for angry hottie. Because even though she probably sorta hated me, I thought someone should cry for her too. Because she lost her best bro and some super wild shit went down. She may be super sassy and mean sometimes but she laid down her whole life for us, and that’s pretty awesome if you ask me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww this chapter made my heart warm. I loved writing Kirsch! And I always love fics that ship Kirsch and Carm's friendship- it's like an unlikely animal friendship and I love it. I wasn't planning on them having a moment but it just happened because Kirsch is Kirsch and he told me to write it lol. 
> 
> More will be slowly revealed. It's more dramatic and fun that way! Also Carm and Laura have a long way to go before reconciling. But they will! I promise! just be ready lol
> 
> I may explore writing different perspectives it's really fun. we'll see!
> 
> Anyway, hit me up in the comments I'm super bored and I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Until next time creampuffs, keep it kinda classy ;)


	20. A Strong Woman in a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perry!
> 
> final explanations
> 
> Last chap of this fic!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. So fun fact I got the 1st does of the Pfizer vaccine yesterday! So far I feel a bit tired and have bit of a headache but that means it's working so I'm excited! It is normal to experience mild to moderate flu symptoms after a vaccine.
> 
> I will get the second and final does in 21 days. For anyone who is scared of needles or shots or just generally apprehensive about this vaccine: This was the most painless shot I have ever received. It literally hurt more to take the band aid off than to get the actual shot. I think if someone came up behind me and gave me the shot without me knowing I honestly wouldn't notice. Also, thousands of health care workers including my professors and attending physicians at my school have gotten it. 
> 
> So, I encourage you, if/when the vaccine is made available to you, please take it. (unless you have other health concerns which preclude you from taking a vaccine which you should discuss with a doctor!) 
> 
> Anyway enough of the health PSA, here is the last chapter of this fic! Don't worry, I'm making this into a series so more of this story is still to come!

Perry

When I met Laura as her freshman floor don, I never, ever imagined it would end up like this. Not that I didn’t expect there to be drama. No, when I was selected among dozens of applicants to lead the 3rd floor of the Silas freshman dorm, I was prepared for drama. I thought I would help with boy problems or girl problems or just people problems in general. I thought I’d have to make a few reports to the dean about illicit drug use and maybe confiscate a few bottles of alcohol.

But as I watch the monitor, seeing little Laura Hollis trashing and screaming like a feral animal, I know I was NOT prepared for this.

Sure, I can handle a little supernatural. It took me a while, I mean that kind of thing just isn’t _right_. But Laf helped me learn how to cope. I have my knitting and my cleaning and my cookies and everything else I just sort of try to take at face value and be there for my friends in any way they need.

But I don’t know how to be there for Laura now. I don’t know how to fix this. We tried to fix it. Matska even had the perfect spell cooked up and I thought for sure we would make it in time.

But we should have known we’d be too late. The powers we were working against were simply too strong for us, even for Matska.

When we found our wonderful Laura on the ground covered in blood in that mansion, my knees almost collapsed underneath me. My mind flashed back to the bright smile Laura gave me when I first met her, and her fierce determination to save the school and her friends. To see her lying there, limp and lifeless was just horrible.

But my mother taught me to be a strong woman in a storm. She taught me that when things get tough and the world is falling down around you, you step up, grit your teeth and help where you are needed.

So, I did. I silenced that voice in my head that told me I needed to clean the blood from the carpet and helped Matska perform the ritual. And when that didn’t work, I helped bring both home and I cleaned all the blood and gore off of Laura and laid her down in bed on crisp white sheets and freshly fluffed pillows. I made her a plate of cookies, placed them on the bedside table and left her to sleep.

And the next morning, when Carmilla stumbled out into the common area, Kirsch supporting her weight, I took her and cleaned her up too. I set her in a bath and scrubbed the dirt and blood and grime away.

She merely sat, hugging her knees weakly to her chest, moving mechanically when I requested, and stared blankly in front of her. She whispered to herself occasionally, although I couldn’t figure out what she was saying.

I hummed a song that my mother used to sing to me when I was sad, hoping that might provide a small comfort for her. I’m not sure she heard it, but I hope maybe she did.

When she was finally clean, I helped get her shaky limbs in a clean set of clothes and started to lead her back to the office, an arm around her waist and my other on her shoulder. When we turned down the corridor, I felt a hand grip my forearm and I turned to see desperate dark eyes.

“Cupcake.” She whispered. It was a question and a prayer and a plea all at once and my heart broke for her. She may not have ever been nice to me. She was even cruel to me at times in the short weeks I had known her, but I knew better than to write her off. She showed us in the most genuine way possible the way she cares for people. The way she cares for me. And for Laura. Those cutting remarks and teasing jokes were trivial compared to her actions. 

And that’s why I felt no ill will towards the girl. In fact, I considered her, and still do, a sister. Family. And family takes care of each other in times like these. When you’re broken and spent and you have nothing left to give. When you’ve lost everything. And this girl did. Lose everything.

But she gained something, too.

And from the looks of it she knows what she is a part of now.

I smiled at her warmly. I gave her the truth and nothing but, because she deserved nothing less.

“We couldn’t stop the change. She is safe and Matska is making sure we are safe from her as well.”

She simple nodded and her dark eyes never left mine. She took a shaky breath, but it hitched in her throat and her eyes widened in panic.

I nodded at her. I took her hand and gently raised her palm to her chest, over where her heart was. Her eyes widened even more when she felt it.

“The prophecy called for an eye for eye. A life for a life. In order for the First Vampire's love to be returned to her, your love must be taken from you. We assumed it meant that you would live, and Laura would die. Which, technically, that’s what happened.”

Her dark eyes search my face and I took a deep breath in, reminding her to breathe as well. She took a gasping breath in and it gushed out quickly.

“I’m alive.” She croaked.

I nodded.

“Yes.”

“Laura is dead.” She said, voice a bit clearer.

“Yes.”

“But she’s still here.”

I smiled at her and I could see a tiny spark in those dark eyes.

“Yes, she is. We all are. Because of you.”

She simply nodded.

“Take me to her.” She said, voice low and determined.

I sighed and pursed my lips.

“She’s unstable- as you probably know better than I. I can show where we’re keeping her. We have a camera to monitor her.”

She nodded once and you led her back towards that magic door and let her go. Her hand came up to trace lightly against the dark wood for a moment. Then she sat down slowly and precisely, her back flush against the wall and her knees hugged against her chest.

And now, a week later, she has not moved from her spot. Well, except to go the bathroom. I had to coach her through that one because I was NOT going to clean up that mess and she was extremely reluctant to leave her post.

I bring her food and she eats the bare minimum to survive but doesn’t move. Kirsch brought her a pillow and blanket to sleep on and we take shifts sitting with her.

I shake my head warily at the sight of her now, snoring softly, her forehead pressed against the scarred mahogany door lying on her side, her knees tucked to her chest.

My eyes go back to the screen on the desk. The monitor flickers and but I can see Laura’s blonde hair splayed out on her pillow and an empty plate on her bedside table on the grainy picture.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

This is going to be quite the storm. And I need to prepare myself.

We all do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's all folks. Lemme know if you were surprised or if you saw it all along. Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> So now Carm is a human and Laura is a vamp.... what happens next? and Mother and Elle got away...right? what happened to them? and what about the fish god is he angry? Tune in for the next installment of TWNAEFSLM!
> 
> I would also like to credit a few fics which have inspired various parts of my story:
> 
> "Monsters" by andthatisterrible was one of the first fics I read and It's very special to me. Give it a read and you'll see how my story vibe and various plot and settings were inspired by this fic. Thank you andthatisterrible!
> 
> "Frostbite" by Milly_O inspired the first few chapters and sort of the beginning premise. I love this fic so give it a read! Thank you Milly_O!
> 
> and honestly I've read so many fics I dont even remember everything I've been inspired by but there are a lot! so thank you creampuffs for writing such good stories! I hope you count mine among them!
> 
> I'm planning on writing a Clexa fic as well so if you're into that watch out for that too!
> 
> Until next time Creampuffs!


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